Gambit
by fantasyra
Summary: A young girl without a past or name wakes alone in a dirty alley within a disreputable section of New Orleans. Cold, hungry, confused and scared she tried to find someone who might be able to answer the question of who she was, unsuccessfully. Instead she is found by Jess, a relativity unknown parahuman thief. From there, Renée enters the world of capes, on her own terms.
1. The Job: Chapter 1

**The Job: Chapter 1**

Exiting the door, I habitually noted where the security cameras were. Those people were meant to see, and those they weren't. Wasn't hard, once you knew what to look for. Nor was keeping a body between me and most of them. Those I couldn't avoid, I turned my head letting my hair obscure that side of my face. I spent the last two years learning to be the best at what I did; not the most well known. Something I planned on keeping that way. More fun.

Keeping with the flow of disembarking passengers I didn't break off until we neared the restrooms. Setting my purse on the back of the sink once I entered the -thankfully- clean room, I started washing my face. While no stranger to crowds there was something about how airlines packed people into, and off of, them that made me feel dirty. That, or maybe it was just that most of my fellow travelers just didn't seem all that friendly. Just people going about their day. That was probably it. Mediocrity; fast friends we were not. More like estranged cousins better suited to avoiding each other than interacting.

Patting my face dry with the provided course paper towel, I checked that my makeup was fine only to look back at the sink in a panic.

It wasn't there. Shit.

Looking back I stared at my right eye. Notably my iris. Red; unlike the green of the contact covering my left. Not just any red but blood red. I might, _might_ , have gotten away without contacts if it had been a darker shade. Even with how there was no white in my eye, but all black, but that ring of bright blood red was just too noticeable.

Not needing contacts to see, I completely missed when I lost it. Thinking back over the short trip, I couldn't see any time when it happened. Damn sure if anyone had noticed, they'd have reacted. Everyone else had. I was probably safe then. Sighing, I started looking through my purse both thanking and cursing my luck. And of course I don't have my spare set with me. Or my sunglasses.

Damn it. I knew I forgot something.

So far someone else hadn't intruded into the bathroom, so I took the opportunity to touch up my make up. The last thing I needed now was to draw undo attention as an unescorted minor. I'd be found out for sure then. Finished, I was satisfied that other than my eye, I looked like a perfectly normal young woman. One good thing about being tall was it made pulling off this disguise easy. While it probably wouldn't work for anything that required an ID check, it was more than perfect for casual glances. One final touch moved my hair to partially cover my right side and I left heading for the gift shop.

The stand of sunglasses was the first thing I headed for. Luck seemed to cut me a break as the little shop only had one other customer. An older woman looking through novels and magazines lining one of the walls. Browsing through the selection it took me a few rounds before choosing an oversized pair that easily covered my eyes but didn't look ridiculous. Adding a case of playing cards from the shelf behind me ended my needs here.

The cashier -a bored looking guy maybe a couple of years older than me- smiled in amusement before teasingly saying, "You must like playing with cards."

"I like solitaire okay," I replied smiling winningly. "That is, unless I have someone to play with."

My smile widened when he blushed as well as dropping the deck of cards he was scanning. He was still looking a bit flustered as I left which pleased me. He was kinda cute, but not cute enough for me to push back my plans for the day. Still, phone number in hand if things went smoothly; there might be something later. I only planned on being in town a few days but you never knew and it was always good to have options in case I found myself here longer than expected.

While waiting at the carousel for my suitcase, I swapped out cards in my phone, reactivating it. A trick Jess taught me to keep under the radar. I hadn't been caught yet so that had to mean something.

Still not seeing my luggage, I checked my email. Nothing yet. Of course not. Why was I even surprised?

I pulled up a map of Brockton Bay as I waited. Big city, kinda. About the size of Baton Rouge. Which until now was the only other place I'd ever been aside from New Orleans. The Bay was, however, a lot smaller than I was used to. Both in people, and in size.

Closing out that page, I brought up a couple of others I'd saved but hadn't read through yet. Flicking through, I noted there were four main things Brockton Bay was known for. First, there seemed to be a huge emphasis on its historical value as being one of the nation's oldest cities. Huh, settled in 1623. That was kinda back there. As expected there were various colonial Museums, galleries, and other neat stuff that appeared to be targeted at various important times in history from then to now. Those might be fun to check out. If nothing else it would be a lot different than the nightlife of Bourbon St.

Hopefully whatever Jess needed my help to steal wasn't in them. While Jess didn't discriminate, I had standards and art and historical pieces went against my principle of 'Never take something that belongs to more than one person'. Also, it was such a pain in the ass to fence stuff like that; if you even could. More than a few local thieves and capes had been caught that way in the short time I'd been around.

Skimming through a lot of dry facts about the efforts put in to restore and keep it that way, I came to the second thing that drew tourists. Lots of waterfront views, most of that revolving around the Boardwalk. Lots of shopping areas aimed at tourists as well as various other bits and bobs. I'd have to check that out. While window shopping wasn't really my thing, it might be fun even if just for the novelty.

Which brought me to the next bit. Once, this city had a huge shipping industry once. Both on land and sea. That explained the maps I looked at. But that was about ten years ago before several ships were sunk in some kind of labor riot. With the shipping industry tanked, the railway fell on hard times unable to keep up with demand. Business started looking for greener pastures where the labor force was less organized, more docile, and less likely to revolt. The huge spike of unemployment was just the final nail in the coffin of an already fading economy. Which also explained why those satellite maps showed the buildings looking pretty rough.

I wasn't surprised after reading that to find out Brockton Bay was the eighth ranked 'cape city' in the nation. Though I was surprised to read that the Teeth came from here before being driven out. I'd had my run in's with them a time or two before the local Protectorate drove them from New Orleans.

Scrolling down the Parahumans Online thread I also discovered that the city had been visited by the Slaughterhouse Nine more than once. It seemed the only major horrific event they hadn't had yet was an Endbringer.

Looking away from my phone, I couldn't help but wonder why Brockton Bay was only ranked eighth. Or hell, was still standing. If you accounted for the capes here, and those in the past from some of the news bits tagged on the website, it almost seemed like a breeding ground for parahuman violence. Though it looked like the place had a kind of equilibrium at the moment.

What a lovely city.

Breaking from my introspection, I looked around noting that where I was once surrounded by a crowd of people, I was now alone. Aside from a single lonely small travel case still spinning slowly on the carousel.

Taking the handle of my luggage, I let it roll behind me as I navigated the halls and walkways. The pay for this job better be worth dragging me here. After two years I finally had a good thing going. Checking my email still showed a lack of any messages from Jess. Nor was she outside waiting when I finally passed the doors. Only to immediately walk right back in once I made sure Jess wasn't there.

Jess was going to owe me double. It was cold out there. Jess knew I _hated_ the cold.

The dirty lying thermostat on the wall outside said it was thirty-eight out there. It never got lower than mid-forty back home and even that was rare. I didn't have anything for dealing with the cold except my body armor and that wasn't going to be an option until after nightfall.

Crap. It was going to be colder at night.

Triple. Jess was going to owe me triple. Just for dragging me into this frigid wasteland.

Nodding, I called a cab to pick me up while looking for and finding a large mall outlet about twenty minutes away. Settling in to wait, I put my earbuds in and selected an album Penny suggested I might like. While my roommate's tastes in anything tended to be about as far from my own as my love for cold weather; I found myself nodding to the first song that started playing. It wasn't anything that you would find on Frenchmen Street, but I had to admit, it wasn't bad.


	2. The Job: Chapter 2

**The Job: Chapter 2**

Thirty minutes into my hunt for warmer clothes and I was about ready to give up. That wasn't to say I hadn't found anything, just that I hadn't found anything I really liked. Though I found plenty of hoodies, some nice wool socks and a balaclava that was a lot warmer than my old one that wouldn't be too hard to alter to fit my cape look. Shaking my head in defeat, I walked back into the main thoroughfare. While useful and needed, the clothes I acquired were not what I wanted.

What I really wanted was a nice coat.

Coats themselves were not hard to find. Most of the clothing stores I visited had them. Finding a nice coat that didn't look stupid was turning out to be like trying to find a sober person in the middle of Mardi Gras without getting your ass grabbed. In other words, practically impossible. Like finding an honest politician or a forgiving loan shark.

I set myself to call this run a wash, thinking I might find something on the Boardwalk when I saw it. Casually thrown over a chair in the middle of a Panda Express. A long leather trench coat in a beautiful chocolate brown. I'd seen similar coats to that one in a leather shop a while back but passed not liking that right out of the box look they all had. They just felt lacking in personality. This one had a real used charm to it.

I felt warm just looking at it.

The guy sitting in the chair the coat was draped over was laughing at something his table companion said. Both dressed up a bit and looked just different enough from most of the other patrons around them to make me think he wasn't a local.

Now, how to get my coat? Finding a spot nearby where I could keep my eyes on it, I started thinking.

Stealing it wouldn't be hard to do. Plenty of people around here for distractions and cover. Not to mention the security cameras in this area were a joke. Yeah, I'd feel bad since it was cold outside but he looked like he could buy a replacement. It did kinda break another of my rules though. Don't steal for personal gain.

It was easy to justify that I needed my coat. Too easy really but that was a slippery slope I was well used to walking. It was all about moderation. Steal to survive, to pay rent, to advance or maintain my craft, that was fine as long as the target wasn't someone who couldn't do without. That was another of my rules. Never take from those who can't afford it. This guy easily looked like he could but that wasn't what was keeping me back. It was that I didn't _need_ to steal it. I passed on dozens of coats I could have bought. I just _wanted_ that one.

Hmm. Maybe I could talk him into selling it?

A quick check of my petty cash backed up the idea. A few more moments thinking about it and I set off for the table I'd been watching. Giving both men at the table my best smile.

Besides, if this didn't work I could always steal it later.

 _XxXGambitXxX_

 _Too easy,_ I mused to myself walking through the Mall doors. Not even the lack of email from Jess bothered me now. I probably wouldn't hear from them until closer to nightfall anyways. All that mattered right now was that I was warm and snug in my stylish new coat. Life didn't get much better than this.

A quick check showed I wasn't too far from the Boardwalk. It was a good place as any to wait on Jess to either wake up or contact me. Unless they already did…

Putting in my ear bud while my thumb danced across the number key on my phone. It wouldn't' be the first time Jess did something like this. I started walking across the parking lot toward the intersection waiting on my friend to pick up.

"Renée!"

"Hey Penny."

"Glad you called, girl. Made it all right?"

"An hour ago," I answered smiling at a girl scout and her mother as I passed. "I don't suppose I had any calls?"

"Not since you left. Why?"

"My friend hasn't let me know where we're supposed to meet up."

Penny snorted, "Some friend."

"Yeah, well, Jess is an acquired taste," I half agreed. "I was just checking to see if maybe they called while I was in transit or something."

"No, sorry Renée," Penny said. "I'll call you if anyone does. So, what do you think of New England?"

"It's cold."

"Ouch," Penny laughed. "Buy a jacket."

Smirking to myself as I pushed the crosswalk button, I replied, "I did."

" _Sure_ you did," she teased. "Seriously, I need details! What's it like over there? Been anywhere yet?"

"Just the mall…"

A squawk of protest sounded behind me. Turning around showed three guys standing in front of the table belonging to the girl scout. Her cookie cartons mostly lying on the ground.

"You big meanie," The girl scout shouted. "If you didn't want any you could have just said so! You didn't have to knock everything down."

The dark skinned kid had guts, I'd give her that. She couldn't have weighed more than the thigh of the man she was shouting at. Looking at her mother, I didn't see anything there other than fear of the toughs in front of them as she tried to quiet her daughter.

I couldn't hear what he was saying, but the lead thug's sneer didn't need any translation. I really didn't like the where this was going.

"Renée?"

"Have to call you later, Penny," I said, fingering a deck of cards in my pocket.

She must have picked up something in my voice because she cheerfully shouted "take pictures!" as I disconnected the call.

Chuckling at her antics I advanced on the scene behind me. A twitch of my wrist sent a playing card sailing into Big Meanie before he could finish whispering. It struck bisecting his right eyebrow with the force of hard slap.

His friends jumped in surprise -as did the kid and her mother- when my target reeled from the blow.

"You know, it's not nice to pick on people smaller than you," I drawled. "Maybe you guys should go find someone more in your weight class to play with."

Just like that, all eyes were on me.

"What the fuck?"

"You shouldn't curse around children," I said, coming to a stop several feet away from the street toughs. "It's not nice."

Shaved head scoffed at my comment turning a bewildered look to the last guy. Big Meanie just stared at me as if he couldn't understand a word I was saying.

"Look, Tourist, just get your shit and walk on. This doesn't concern you."

"Sure," I said, smirking as I held the deck of cards. "But before I go, want to see a card trick?"

Still smirking I cut the deck one handed, then folded them back into a single deck before cutting it again. This time, showing all three men the card on bottom. Once they had a good look, I quickly shuffled the deck, split, folded, then ended with a showy bit that sent cards flying from one hand to the other through a foot of empty space.

Unimpressed the third guy shook his head pulling a switchblade. Thumb on the trigger, he pointed it at me. "Get lost bitch."

Still smirking I kept my eyes locked on them; pulling a card from the middle of the deck. Holding it up between two fingers. "Ta-da."

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a cackling hum and psychedelic colors erupting around the card.

"Shit," Shaved head cursed. "Cape."

"Your card, no?"

I noticed the switchblade had disappeared. Big Meanie shook his head mutely. Eyes dancing around. Either looking for cover, or the quickest way gone.

"I think it is," I said blandly as my smile melted. "Best out of three?"

A twitch of my wrist brought two more cards into my hand. All three visibly swallowed when my power enveloped them as it had the first.

They fidgeted. I didn't. When Shaved Head took a few steps away, I let him. Emboldened, the others joined him and they quickly left.

The only move I made was turning to keep facing them as they retreated. Once they were far enough away to make coming back a bad idea, I tossed the cards into the air. All three exploded in noticeable pops, making them jump and turn back. While they didn't break into a run, but they were definitely not dragging their feet by the time I turned my attention away from them.

Adjusting my sunglasses, I hoped the Bay's Protectorate ran with a similar policy New Orleans did in not making a big fuss as long as cape incidents were low key. A quick look around showed that despite me openly using my abilities, I hadn't drawn much attention until I threw the cards. Already those that looked were mostly going back to their own business leaving me with just the girl scout and her mom.

She was maybe about ten or so. Dark skinned with hair nearly as dark tied back into a pair of dangling pigtails and she was missing one of her front teeth. I couldn't image why those guys were pissed at her. Hell, just looking at her and _I_ wanted to buy a box of her cookies. She was like a cute little bob eared keebler in a skirt and sash.

Before I could say anything, the kid did, "That was so cool! How did you do that?"

"With style, petite," I answered with a smile. "With style."

My comment got a giggle from the girl. I lowered myself to one knee extending my hand, "My friends call me Renée LeBeau."

"Angela, no…" Her mother tried to caution. Looking over my sunglasses at the standing woman made her recoil. I kept my smile in place, well used to that reaction from those who didn't know me.

"Hi! I'm Angela Johnson," Angela said oblivious to her mother's discomfort and warning as she shook my hand, fearlessly.

"Nice to meet you Angela. Would you like some help picking up?"

"Oh, no Ms. LeBeau," Her mother quickly interrupted. "We really should be leaving anyways. I knew setting up in this area would be a bad idea, considering..."

"But," Angela argued. "You said we could be here until five!"

"Angela, I know how badly you want to do well this year but what if those men come back? I told Gerald that it was a bad idea for us to try selling in this area. It borders the Empire."

"But Scout Troop Leader Mr. Gerald said we couldn't change areas because it wouldn't be fair to the others if we sold in their areas."

"I know, but…"

"I'm so close, Mom," She started to say before turning big eyes to me. "W-would you help us?"

Ah crap. Eyes that cute should be illegal. Under the charm she was pouring on, I could see a harder edge. Whatever the 'Empire' was -had my money on a local gang and one that either didn't like them personally, or just didn't like blacks- was known to her. Despite that, or maybe even because of it, she was determined to not let that stop her.

Shaking my head I tried to break the bad news that I didn't have that kind of time when she spun around. Quickly picking up a carton of cookies she turned back to me.

"Please? I'm super close to getting my badge. You don't even have to do anything! Maybe sit with us for a little while in case those guys come back? You can have this box. I bought it for myself but you can have it for helping."

Holding out the box of cookies, Angela waited for my answer. And I found myself considering it. Jess wasn't likely to call me for some time still. Checking the time on my phone showed that I'd have plenty of time to get to the Boardwalk even if I sat around here until five. Decision reached -and not just because she was offering me a free box of Thin Mints, though that helped- I looked up to answer when my eyes locked on her sash. Specifically, one of the badges sewn into it. A tent and tree inside a circle.

"Junior Outdoors Camper, huh?" I asked pointing to the badge.

Angela looked before nodding a bit confused at my interest.

"You'll go for Cadette Outdoors Trailblazing later then, won't you?"

"Yeah," she replied. Her confusion morphing into enthusiasm. "I still have a year to go before I can try for it but Marcy and I are already getting ready. We want that to be our first Cadette badge."

"And you'll get it to," I said smiling. "You're definitely brave enough, petite."

Looking around to shake off the feeling the badge gave me, I said "Well, you're not going to sell any cookies with them all over the ground. Let's get you set backup."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Leaning on a rail overlooking the bay, my coat wrapped around me protecting me from the water's chilled breeze, I raised a styrofoam cup to my lips. I grimaced at the cold liquid, and hit it with a touch of my power, instantly reheating it. I sighed in contentment, enjoying the momentary aroma of my now steaming beverage.

Much better. Cold coffee sucked and anyone who said differently was insane. Or a liar.

I'd been here for just over an hour watching the last rays of the sun dance on the water and simmer along the protective dome over what a vendor had told me was cape headquarters for the local Protectorate.

Angela proved to be every bit as smart as I figured. And devious. After what happened, she knew her mother wasn't going to take her anywhere near where they were supposed to sell this season and used my presence for all it was worth. First by using me as a buffer against her mother knowing the woman wasn't going to raise too much of a fuss in fear of going from a friendly cape to an unfriendly one. Not that I would, but she didn't know that and Angela played it for all it was worth. Though the whole time I was there, the woman kept an eye on me and didn't say much.

When people came close enough, Angela started pitching, drawing most of them in with smiles and watching them leave with her product in a way that would have made some street hawkers I knew back home green with envy. I was impressed.

During lulls, she bombarded me with questions. Asking about my accent -which she seemed to get a kick out of- and then about New Orleans. It actually turned out to be a fun way to pass the time. Trying to be considerate I kept away from the more risque stories I had. Angela's mom didn't like me much and no sense in rocking the boat and ruining the kid's chances.

Just to be sure I slipped in a hundred to the kid's cash box before we parted ways. Just in case she didn't sell enough for her badge.

Taking another sip, I looked around me again. I could easily see why this place got a mention in the travel guide as being a must see. It was a beautiful backdrop for the city's Boardwalk. Not anywhere near as lively as I was used to, but nice in it's own way. Case in point, there was no one else around me on this pier. Gave me time to think. And I needed it.

It wasn't the view that was keeping me here. From the second I arrived on this pier, something inside me churned. It was the same feeling I had when I noticed Angela's badge but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why I felt like I did. Then I got here, and that same feeling hit me again. There was something about this place that called to me.

No, not called to me. It seemed...familiar.

And that was what was driving me crazy. How did I know about the badges and why can't I remember anything else about them? What was it about this peir that tickled the back of my head? Why can't I remember anything before two years ago?

In two years I'd never had that feeling. Not once. Now in the span of a few hours, I've had it twice. What was it about this place that triggered it? Did this mean I might get my memories back? Was that something I could even dare to hope for? Did I even want them back?

I sighed. I'd practically given up on it. I spent the last year ruthlessly pushing that out of my mind. Focusing on being Renée and not… on whoever I was before Renée.

There were no answers for me to read in the water. Whatever that feeling was, it was all I had and that didn't mean a damn thing.

I jumped when my phone rang unexpectedly breaking me out of my thoughts.

" _Bonjour_ Jess," I greeted my wayward friend. "Finally wake up?"

"You fucking here yet, swamp rat?"

"I've been here since two."

"Why the fuck did you get here so early in the fucking morning?"

"Two in the afternoon, Jess."

"That's what I fucking said, ass bag," Jess shot back.

"Late night, _chérie_?" I heckled.

"Fuck you and you're fucking accent," Jess cursed. "God dammit, speak fucking english you cajun ditz. You're giving me flashbacks of Mardi Gras that I'm still trying to forget happened."

"Which reminds me," I couldn't help but needle. "Marcus wanted me to say hello and ask when you'll be back in town. He misses you."

"Oh fuck you bitch. I told you tell him I died a horrible death in an airplane crash! Or was it swallowed by an Endbringer? Fuck, I can't remember which, but I know I told you to tell him I was dead. Why in the blue balls hell would you fucking tell him I was alive? Much less that you were going to see me?"

"Payback, _chérie_ , for that mess you left me with when you had your falling out with Bayou Amos," I snorted. "Six months later he's still angry that you somehow stuffed him into that princess dress before leaving him to wake up in the middle of Bourbon St. Though I think I convinced him that it wasn't you that drew that penis on his forehead. He still doubled my protection rents."

"Oh yeah," Jess chuckled. "That was actually a fun night. You know, for a guy who weighs over four hundred pounds, you wouldn't believe what a fucking pussy he is with his booze. Great in the sack though."

"I'll make sure to tell him you said that when I get back home," I returned dryly. "Right after I give Marcus your love."

"Fucking cunt. I hate you."

"So, I can go home?"

"Fuck that," Jess muttered. A rustle of sheets before Jess came back with, "Where are you?"

"Your Boardwalk. Not far from the ferris wheel."

"Alright. Got your party clothes ready?"

"I brought them with me," I answered. "Details after you pick me up?"

"Yeah. Be in the parking lot. I'm not hunting all over that fucking place for your ass."

Chuckling, I said, "See you soon _mon'ami._ "

Putting away my phone I rose taking one last look around pier. Taking the handle of my travel case, I started making my way to the parking lot. After the job I'd come back. Maybe then I'd figure out whatever it was I was feeling.


	3. Interlude: Witness

**Interlude: Witness**

"We call her Deck," Drummer answered her inquiry. "She's got a habit of using playing cards and Local PD has caught glimpses of her at more than one underground gambling house. But rumor on the street is that she goes by Gambit now. As well as a few other more colorful names depending on the source."

"That doesn't sound good," Hannah mumbled into the phone.

Drummer chuckled. "According to her file, she's been around for a couple of years. First sighting was back in '09. A local cop said he saw a young girl running out of an alley during his foot patrol. He noted, and I quote 'I wouldn't have thought nothing of it, but when she looked at me, I swore she had the devil in her eyes."

"That sounds suspicious. He didn't stop her? Why was she running?"

"That part of the city isn't the best, Miss Militia. Orphaned or unsupervised kids running around isn't really that out of the ordinary down there. You'd be astounded how many times we've found little bodies in that area. Dead from either starvation or exposure," Drummer sighed. "Anyway, according to this he did check the alley. That was when he found one of our local problem child's. Causeway Johnson. Gambler, drunk, and all around sleaze."

"Cape?"

"No, thank god," Drummer snorted. "Guys bad enough without powers. Just fancies himself as a player. Report says he was knocked unconscious. Nasty head wound, but nothing out of the ordinary aside from the girl. This was filed in our unresolved assault case files until rumors started circulating about a burning red eyed child cape running with the Street Rats. They called her White Devil but for some time that was all we had. This report and the rumors. We didn't get our first actual sighting of her until a few months later."

"So, she's a villain?" Hannah asked, looking across her desk at Samantha's frown.

"Well, that's kind of a matter of debate actually," Drummer hedged. "It depends on the incident and who you talk to. Also keep in mind that most of what we have is circumstantial."

"Oh," Hannah asked frowning herself. "How so?"

"Our first sighting of her as a cape was back in late '09 about Christmas time," he explained. "One of our Ward teams spotted her and called in a possible cape. She didn't have a costume really and was dressed like most of the Street Rats except that she was wearing a modified a balaclava that left her face exposed. Which was the weird part. Then again, with her eyes, I guess she figured it didn't matter."

Adding to her growing notes, Hannah asked, "What was she doing?"

"Believe it or not, handing out colorfully wrapped Christmas presents to the homeless in that district. Our people are not well liked in that area but a few of them let us see what they got. Food and blankets mostly. Thing is, a couple of days before a warehouse on the south side was robbed. Guess what was stolen?

"Blankets."

"That's right. A shipping container door was somehow blown open. Forensics couldn't make heads or tails of what was used or how it was done. Didn't match anything we had. Figured it was a cape, but cameras in the building were disabled and there were no witnesses. At the same time the Street Rats pulled off several walk outs in several big chain supermarkets all over the city. Food and clothes mostly though they got away with a bunch of other stuff."

"What happened when the Wards approached her?"

"About what you would expect from kids interacting with a chibi demon," Drummer sighed sadly. "Deck was friendly enough but they couldn't get over her eyes. Ended badly when Guppy said something rude to her and she fled crying, leaving behind her wagon of gifts. Baritone tried to stop her and she threw something at him that exploded with enough force to fling him through a brick wall. Thankfully he's a brute and could take it. Not all of us have the luxury of having access to a healer like Panacea. Console ordered them to back off. We didn't know enough about her to know if she was holding back or not."

Hannah nodded at that sensible outcome. It was what she would have done. The situation had escalated too far already.

"We were able to definitely link the contents of the gifts to the warehouse robbery and powers suggest Deck was involved. In house we labeled her a child villain and started preparing for our next run in with her. Things changed two weeks later. Something happened within the Street Rats. Informants said their leader who calls himself 'Rat King' got into an argument with Deck. Whatever it was about split the gang. Most stayed with Rat King but a few splintered off. Including Deck. There were several incidents later where Deck was seen fighting with various Street Rats. Well, knocking them around more than fighting. It was always over before we could get anyone on scene. The only thing we ever found when we did was unconscious kids. Deck's kind of well liked on the street and few were willing to even admit she was there."

"Director Simmons decided that if she kept low profile then we wouldn't force a confrontation with her, and we adopted a wait and see policy. Over the next few months there were a few incidents of theft that might have been her. A few explosions in abandoned warehouses and such. Booby traps we think, but we never did rule out a scuffle. Again, no proof. Kid seems to be made of smoke and mirrors. Then all that changed a little over a year ago."

"What happened?" Hannah asked interestedly.

"We have no idea," Drummer answered. "I'm sure you're aware of how the game goes. Lulls and spikes. When it comes to Deck, things just stopped until she reappeared again. This time dressed in a set of articulated light body armor and looking a lot older. We had her pegged between twelve and thirteen but when Deck resurfaced, she looked closer to eighteen. That isn't all that changed. Before we had incidence that we thought she was involved in but that all stopped after. All sightings after were just that, sightings as she moved through the city. Never another incident we could definitely link her to.

"She's been seen in places she shouldn't be but whatever she's been doing she's kept her head down and avoided all the local gangs and indies. Now and then we hear rumors of her on Frenchmen Street listening to the music, or eating at various restaurants in other areas. We've had reports that she's been involved in preventing muggings and calming drunken disputes on Bourbon St. Things like that. Not exactly hero stuff. We think she just doesn't like it when people are being ugly to each other. PD favorites her for a couple of big thefts in the area and two in Baton Rouge, but again, no proof, and it's not like we've ever been able to find her to ask questions."

"I see. Anything else you can think of that might explain her presence in Brockton Bay?"

"Sorry Miss Militia," Drummer apologized. "I wish I could help you out but I honestly have no idea why she's there. It's weird that she'd be in your city. By all accounts she practically a fixture in the nightlife around here."

"Deck likes the nightlife?" Hannah asked writing that tidbit down.

"Oh yeah," Drummer chuckled. "That's where most of our sightings of her appear. She's not shy about it. Nor is she shy about using her powers in public, though she's learned to be extremely careful about it."

"That would explain the incident Battery and I witnessed," Hannah said.

"Oh, just as an FYI," Drummer said. "And keep in mind I can't verify this at all but as a caution. Deck's hard to rile up, but don't do it."

"That sounds ominous."

"As I said, we don't know this for a fact," Drummer hedged. "But we think a couple of the local gangs have tried to recruit her a couple of times. We think she's done jobs for a few of them now and then, but we're not sure. We think that on one occasion she wasn't given the choice of saying no."

"What happened?"

"We don't know and no one's saying. Whatever it was ended with one of our local big shots beaten within an inch of his life and left in the middle of a street in his own territory. We think it was Deck because whoever did it left a playing card on his forehead. Queen of Hearts."

"That's...disturbing."

"Well, opinion is divided if she did it or not. Split house on if she did, or if it was a copy cat trying to frame her. Area was pretty tore up though. Two Mauls was pretty well known for being a tough son of a bitch and liked his collateral damage. Forensics couldn't figure out which of them did what. Just thought I'd mention it."

"How long ago was this?"

"Ah, six months ago maybe?"

"Alright," Hannah sighed, looking over her notes. "If you could send what you have on Deck, I'd appreciate it. And if you think of anything else, call me please."

"Not a problem, Miss Militia. I'll take care of it."

"Thank you, Drummer."

"So what's the verdict?" Samantha asked.

Hanging up, Hannah looked across to her teammate, "Nothing conclusive it seems. The only real concrete evidence appears to be from events over a year ago. Drummer's sending what they suspect and know about her."

"Well, at least we know she's good to girl scouts," Samantha joked offering a cookie from the carton they bought earlier from said girl scout.

"So it seems," Hannah laughed, taking the cookie. "Hopefully she's only visiting, which seems to be the case. While she's not an outright villain according to Drummer, she is suspected of being involved with a few in a nebulous manner."

Samantha sighed, "At least we know something. Half the time a new cape shows up things tend to get crazy around here. I like that it's been quiet lately. Hopefully this girl's just here to see the sights and will go back to being Drummer's problem."


	4. The Job: Chapter 3

**The Job: Chapter 3**

Watching through binoculars, I noted the bored guard reading a magazine before traversing to one of two patrols circling the house. Thankfully neither had dogs.

"A frontal attack is a horrible idea," I muttered quietly. Currently we were a good distance away. The rooftop we were observing from was far less guarded and the best vantage to our target.

Next to me, Jess's chin was resting on the back of gloved hands. Hair done up in pigtails and frosted in hot pink and saffron. Make up done to make anyone think 'clown' and easily further obscuring not just Jess's identity, but gender. Today that meant half the face in lime green, the other in neon yellow with thick black around the eyes and mouth.

At least I talked them out of the bells.

To the best of my knowledge, it was the longest running prank in the history of pranks. One Jess trolled endlessly at every opportunity they could. I'd known Jess for almost as long as I'd had memories and I felt pretty sure I was the only one who knew the punchline of the joke being played. And that wasn't just that Jess changed identities on a whim. One moment he might be Jessie, turn a corner, and she's Jessica. Or whatever name they were using at the time. Knowing Jess, Jess wasn't even the right name to use here. Nor had it been for some time. This also included cape identities. Last I heard, it was a Musketeer theme named Adhoc. Today it was clowns and Circus.

Who knew what anything involving Jess would like be tomorrow.

Circus shrugged. "It's not like we couldn't take the fuckers out. There's only five of them."

Resisting the urge to sigh, I kept observing the historic estate. I didn't know, and Circus couldn't be bothered to find out, who it originally belonged to, but it looked like a modernized colonial style home. I'd seen a few others in this area like it but this one was the biggest. And the only one this well guarded. The good news was that it also made it a bit more isolated as the grounds spread out for some distance from the house to the wall.

That was also the bad news but it could have been worse. There could have been dogs.

"If you wanted to do this job like a common thug, why did you call me?"

"Oh?" Circus drawled complete with raised painted eyebrow. "Think you're hot shit now, _Gambit?_ "

"Better than _Deck_ ," I groused. If I ever got my hands on the idiot who stuck me with that name in the Protectorate, we were going to have words. The only grace was that it never caught on within the media. That would have been tragic.

And painful when I figured out who the laughing moron was and settled accounts. It wasn't even better than the stupid name Devin gave me when I ran with the Street Rats. Then again, what could I expect from a thug who called himself, Rat King?

Circus laughed. Thankfully quietly. Well, for Circus.

"And to answer your question, I do have an alternate plan," I said instead of commenting further. "If you think you can keep up, _mon_ ' _amie?"_

Circus's smile became a smirk. "Show me what you got, kid."

Giving one last check to make sure I had my timing right, I handed back the binoculars to Circus who put them wherever it was that the cape put stuff.

A short slide along the roof put both of us on the ground and moving where Circus said a blind spot was in the camera coverage. Trusting in the tidbit for my plan -as when Circus bothered to do any homework it was always done right- we sprinted across the street heading for the cast iron wall of our target.

Extending my staff, I pole vaulted over the wall landing easily on the other side. Turning showed Circus climbing a ladder to get over the same wall. I blew a kiss. Circus flipped me off.

Waiting only long enough for Circus to get to the top, I turned and bolted. My target being a huge tree that had probably been there longer than the estate. Flinging myself upward grabbing a branch I twisted my body to wrap my legs around it. Letting my upper body hang with my arms extended.

Despite being slower over the wall, Circus wasn't that far behind me. Grabbing my arms I let her use me as a swing to get to the next branch over. Once Circus let go, I got my feet under me with my back to the trunk.

Turning the corner of the house, one of the pair of patrolman approached to walk below none the wiser to our presence.

Smiling at each other we waited until they got further away before leaping to the next tree to repeat the process gaining access to the roof. From there we crossed over keeping the high peaks and decor between us and the roving patrols until we reached the skylight I noticed earlier.

"You've gotten better," Circus chuckled once they joined me.

"Lot's of practice," I whispered back trying not to flush at the incredibly rare compliment from the normally surly cape. "And I cheat."

"If you're not cheating, you're doing it wrong," Circus said. "Why here? I told you he has all the windows and doors wired to the security system. You can't even break the glass without triggering the tumbler sensor and then the alarms."

"Who said anything about breaking anything, _mon cher?"_

Instead of explaining I touched the skylight window twice. A half circle then a full larger one around all that before lightly making the smiley face nose.

A light crackling hum erupted along with a slight flickering as my power consumed the glass panel in it's entirety, and nothing else. Looking over the roof peak next to us showed the guards below didn't see a thing.

Turning back I gave Circus my best smirk while they bite down on their knuckle to keep from laughing at my antics.

Leaning in I was easily able to see the alarm sensor and disable it. It wasn't like it was tinkertech. Those things were notoriously finicky. You couldn't trust logic to anything cape related.

Extending my staff, I braced myself before taking the rope Circus offered me and tying it off.

"I have to ask, where do you even hide that thing?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," I teased.

"Yes," Circus replied all attention on me. "I would."

"Hush, _ma chère_. Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. You first."

Done, Circus shimmied through the skylight sliding down the rope. I followed quickly.

"So, where is this 'thing' we're here for?" I asked.

"That way," Circus pointed. "Next room."

Letting Circus take point now that we were inside, I followed looking around. It was a mix of modern and old style in the same manner as the exterior. Whoever lived here even went the extra mile and acquired what looked like authentic pieces to complement the design while also contrasting it with very expensive looking modern pieces.

And this was just the kitchen area. "You never did tell me who we were robbing."

"Some douchebag named Max Anders," Circus answered quietly, leaning against a door before peeking.

"And what did he do to warrant you stealing his shinys?"

"He's a pretentious bastard who thinks his shit doesn't stink," Circus answered before entering the next room. The next comment whispered over the shoulder. "That and he stole my parking spot at Starbucks."

"Oh for the love of," I hissed. "You dragged me into the cold for _that_?"

"Hey," Circus whispered harshly, spinning around to face me. "I spend my working days like half the schmucks in this city working a shit job for a fucktard boss. My Starbucks is the only thing that makes looking at that great big ball of fire in the sky worth it. Do you have any idea how fucking bright that damn thing is?

"That was my spot. I always park there. The stupid waitress knew it. Those idiot soccer moms who are always around knew it. Even the fucking dickweed manger knew it. My spot and piss hole stole it. So I'm taking something of his."

Opening my mouth to reply, I didn't. Yes, Circus was petty, but I highly doubted that they called me all the way from New Orleans just to piss off someone they barely knew.

...

No, now that I thought about it, that was exactly something Circus would do.

Sighing, I shook my head and waved Circus forward. Thankfully she turned around heading deeper into the room.

Looking around to avoid thinking of the crackpot reason we were here I took in the decor. It was more of the same, but more suited for an area for entertaining guests. Bookshelves lined with leather backs, various bits of artwork and furniture. An oak bar fully stocked with expensive looking liquor.

Running my fingers along the spines of a few of the books, I noted the titles. I didn't recognize any of them, much less the language they were written in. Opening one didn't help.

Shrugging I put it back, turning to find Circus. Wasn't hard to find, Circus was standing next to a piano in a dark finish.

I blinked. Circus was running gloved hands lovingly over said piano.

"Seriously?" I hissed marching over to her. "You want to take his _piano!?_ "

Smirking at me, Circus replied, "It's a nice piano."

"Do you even play piano?"

"Why the fuck would I want to play it?" Circus snorted. "I just want it because I think it will be hilarious to whip it out and drop it on the next dumb fuckhole that tries to chase me down. Besides, imagine the look on Ander's face when he wakes up tomorrow and it's gone and the only evidence anyone broke in, was through his skylight!"

I decided right there; I hated Brockton Bay. Circus was never what even I would call sane for capes, but there had to be something in the water here to turn them this insane. I also decided that Circus was going to pay me _quadruple_. Just for dealing with this crap.

"I want to go home."

Chuckling and ignoring my impatient stare, Circus smiled down at the piano. "Come to mama..."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

We left the same way we entered and were gone just as silently as we'd arrived. The whole way Circus had this weird dreamy troll look which just creeped me out to no end. Not to mention, made me feel bad for whoever earned the piano of doom.

Sighing I leaned back into the chair Circus left me. A leather back that was surprisingly comfortable, but totally inappropriate for being left on a cigarette strewn dirty rooftop in the middle of abandoned buildings, factories, and long disused roads.

One of Circus's safe houses, they told me, and my home for what was left of the night and however long I risked staying in this city. It was situated deep into what Circus called the Docks. The main benefit was the isolation from just about any and everyone while only being about half an hour's walk to the waterfront and Boardwalk. Case in point, there was only a single car in sight.

While the view was depressing around here, this spot did offer a fair view of the bay. Getting up I leaned against the wall to watch the sunrise over the water.

The crunch of gravel from below caught my attention. That car I noticed slowed and parked in front of the gated fence to the buildings across the street. It was only then I noticed the fifteen men milling around in front of that gate.

The driver got out, saying something to the small crowd. The assembled men and women nodded back respectfully. One of them clapped the man on the back as he unlocked the gate.

I smiled. I'd seen similar scenes before when I ran with the Street Rats. Sitting on rooftops watching people do the exact same thing. Labor workers greeting a well liked boss. Start of day jokes and good natured complaints.

I was so envious of them back then. Jealous they had such a simple thing and took it for granted. Something I wouldn't have. Even now, I didn't have that easygoing camaraderie those men had with each other. At best, I scared people to shaking by looking at them and it took a long time talking with them before they would accept me enough to stop wondering when I was going to ask for their soul.

One of the men turned to say something to the woman behind him when he spotted me watching. He tapped the boss on the shoulder and pointed.

I almost fell off the roof when he turned around, his face highlighted by the sole working street light in the area for the first time.

Older guy in his late thirties or maybe early forties. Dressed in business casual in a way that didn't make him look like a suit, but more like one of the guys around him that just had desk job. Slightly balding and thin enough that from here I wandered how he was still standing. He adjusted his glasses as he returned the favor and looked back at me.

But none of that was as noticeable as the clench in my gut that hit me like sucker punch. It was like the girl scout badge and the pier, but only four times as powerful.

The men and women who waited for him formed a semicircle around him. All of them looking my way. The man in glasses took a couple of steps forward and shouted something to which I didn't answer.

Instead I stood perfectly still, staring. I didn't turn away from the man or the feeling until I noticed the others were shifting in place and several had large wrenches in hand.

Glasses shouted again. Not challenging, but in a way that meant he expected a response. My mind was consumed with that feeling of familiarity and whatever it was he said, I didn't hear. But I didn't' need to. His people's body postures said enough.

You're not wanted here. Go away.

So I did.

Turning around and walking away, I tried to focus my mind. All thoughts of sleep abandoned to the new thoughts running a mile a minute.

Why did I keep getting this feeling?

What the hell was going on?

Who the fuck was that guy?

Did this have anything to do with my missing memories?

Was this connected to what happened to me two years ago?

I didn't have any answers but I knew one thing. I was going to find out.


	5. The Job: Chapter 4

**The Job: Chapter 4**

Unable to sleep, I changed clothes and left keeping buildings between me and the man with Glasses. Giving a quick look around the corner checking to see if they were watching, and not seeing anyone, I made my way to the Boardwalk. Glasses looked like a desk man. I'd give him time to send his people to where ever they were needed, then come back.

A couple of hours, two large coffees and a pastry later, I found myself back. This time hidden from any eyes that might be looking.

Glasses' car was parked inside the fenced lot next to a long building, proclaiming it to be home of the 201st Dock Workers Union. There were a handful of other cars in the lot as well.

I didn't see any of the labor workers from earlier but didn't move in yet. Instead, I took my time. Circling around the yard, checking. I found a few of them, or maybe new ones that showed up later. Some were doing clean up, others going from building to building. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but I easily noticed that each of them had their eyes looking outward to the surrounding area as they did it.

Was that for me, or natural paranoia?

Either way, it created a minor annoyance that took me another half hour to overcome. Once I was sure no one would see me enter, I slipped through a break in the chain link fence heading to Glasses' car. Reaching it unnoticed, I checked the door finding it locked.

Damn it. I was way too unprepared for this. Worse, this was exactly how a thief got caught. Leaping without thinking. I knew better than this.

Giving the yard one last look, I retraced my steps pulling out my phone once I was clear of the Union building.

I needed a guy in the know, or even maybe a sympathetic supplier. I didn't have either here and I didn't bring anything with me aside from the armor and a few multi use inconspicuous things. This wasn't my city and the job was supposed to be a simple burglary, not research. The only resource I did have was Jess.

And wasn't that just a depressing thought.

At the moment Jess was either sleeping, or working their day job. Jess didn't say which it was, but they did mention they wouldn't be available until after three at the earliest.

Frowning, I put away my unused phone. Fine. Starting from scratch it was.

Another change in clothes, makeup, and my sunglasses later I left Jess's safe house for the shopping districts of Brockton Bay. Hardware, sporting goods, knick-knack stores as well as several others drifted around me as I looked for what I needed. In the end I had a backpack carefully packed with several improvised tools and necessities. Not enough, and most of them I probably wouldn't even need, but I needed to cover as many possible scenarios as I could think of.

My best find however came not from the stores but from a tow truck I passed after I decided to head back. While the driver was distracted talking to a policemen trying to figure out which wrecks in the accident was the one he was supposed to pick up, I stole his slim jim.

By the time I made it back I was exhausted, frustrated at how long everything took, and more than slightly angry at Jess for being unavailable. Which was unfair of me, but I was tired and somehow in my cranky haze, it seemed perfectly reasonable to blame Jess for my obsession with trying to figure out who Glasses was.

My persistence was rewarded with a satisfying click when my procured slim jim popped open the lock on Glasses' car door. Getting in quickly I opened the glove box taking the handful of papers inside.

Glasses was Danny Hebert. His registration was due next month and apparently frequented a street downtown for varying times between noon and two judging by the many parking slips and one parking ticket I found. A quick check through a street map app on my phone showed the addresses on the slips were parking garages while the ticket looked like it was a from a meter he didn't pay enough to hold.

The rest of the car interior was barren. No mail, bills, magazines, fast food wrapper, empty cups or cans anywhere. There wasn't even a phone charger and he didn't smoke judging by the change sitting in his ashtray instead of cigarette butts.

Unlocking the trunk, I exited the car making sure to relock it and closed the door before moving to the back. The trunk space was as barren as the rest of the car. Just a jack and a four way. Moving them out of the way I stowed my pack and slipped inside closing the lid.

As I got as comfortable I as I could in such a cramped space, I checked the time. Eleven thirty. He'd be leaving soon for downtown. Maybe whatever he was doing there would shed light on the situation. If nothing else a parking garage offered plenty of privacy to confront him to get answers.

Adjusting my hoodie I waited. Feeling my eyes droop despite my discomfort.

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Groaning in pain I tried to make sense of why I was lying in such an awkward position before remembering. A hiss of my power forced the latch to unlock raising the trunk lid. Awkwardly climbing out despite protests made by a stiff body I took note of several things.

First, this wasn't a parking garage. This wasn't even downtown. It looked like a suburb. Second, I was asleep a lot longer than a nap would account for. It was pitch dark except from the light coming from the street lamps. A quick check on my phone showed that not only was it late, but very late. Almost midnight. I'd also missed two calls from Jess, and one from Penny.

Well, that went well. Could have been worse. He could have gotten a flat and found a fire eyed girl sleeping in his trunk. That would have been awkward to explain. At least the night was warmer than it was last night. It was almost tolerable. Sighing I took off my shades putting them in my pack. Slinging it over my shoulder I closed the trunk looking around again.

Older neighborhood though not in what I would think of as being in a bad area despite that. In it's heyday I bet it was kinda nice. From what I could see some of the houses still looked fairly kept up, but most weren't.

Danny's wasn't. The lawn didn't have that loved look to it. Yet it wasn't completely left fallow either. More like something someone cut down only when it got too bad, but not enough to be someone's pride. A picked fence that at one time might have been whitewashed looked pretty rough but intact. Empty mailbox out front.

Then I saw the house.

It wasn't that I didn't see it before. I just didn't take in the details. When I did, that feeling hit me again. Just as strong as when I saw Danny this morning, but worse. This didn't feel like a sucker punch so much as free falling, but not.

My feet moved of their own accord bringing me closer as if it was the only thing that existed. Reaching for the post of the porch, I hesitated to actually touch. Some part of me afraid that if I did it would disappear, or I'd wake up and find out all this was some kind of fever dream or something. I couldn't tell which was worse. That I'd suddenly wake up and find this was all a dream, or that it wasn't, and that the only ghost on this street, was me.

The post was unyielding and rough. Hadn't been repainted in some time and was starting to show it's age. Several bits flaked off in my hand as I slowly slid my hand along it. Swallowing, I continued up the porch pausing once I reached the door before turning back.

I stepped over the third step, bypassing it without thinking. Kneeling I examined it easily seeing it's fragile state. If I would have tried to put my weight on that step, I'd have broken it as well as stumbled and fell.

How did I know that before I even looked?

My gut clenched as a horrible question flashed across my mind.

Was this what being mastered felt like?

I'd never been mastered before but I'd heard stories. Some from others, a few from online. Those that involved teenage girls were...disturbing. Then, there was _Devin._ The self styled Rat King.

He could do something like this. It was how he kept control over the Street Rats. I never figured it out, but Marcus said that to him, Rat King's power made his head fuzzy and that the things he said or asked them to do were perfectly reasonable things. The effect never lasted longer than an hour, but usually that was enough. By then, they had already done whatever it was he sent them to do. Or they were in the middle of it and it was too late to back out.

The less thought about the few girls in the gang, the better. I did what I could for them when I was there, or when they let me. But there were times I wasn't and most of them didn't want my help. They did what they did to survive, and no part of me faults them for it, but that didn't make it right.

That was half the reason for me leaving. Rat King didn't care about any of us, just that we did what he wanted us to do and that he was well fed and 'happy'. His power never worked on me for some reason and he knew it. Despite that he kept me around because I was useful. Then one day he just got tired asking me to do things he wanted and being told no. Then tried to make me.

Was this Danny Hebert a master like Devin? Was that way I kept feeling like this? Why the feeling was so much stronger here, or when I saw him than the other two times it happened?

' _It would certainly explain what I'm doing at this fucker's house at midnight for god knows why…'_

As much sense as that explanation made, it still didn't feel right. What sort of power makes you nostalgic for an ocean view? Nor did it explain the girl scout badges.

I still couldn't risk ruling it out yet.

Looking back to the door I decided I wasn't going to get answers out here. This wasn't how I originally wanted to do this, but I was here now and I wasn't leaving without answers. His door was locked, but that was fixed quickly and within moments I entered his kitchen.

The feeling persisted as I looked around. Most of the things in here were familiar, but like every other time I felt it, it was without context. It felt like I knew this place, but there was no reason for it. I didn't recognize anything around me as being something I'd personally seen before. No flashes of images or anything like I'd read about in books or seen on TV. It all just felt familiar for no reason.

Lost half within my own mind I missed the sounds of approaching footsteps until someone stepped into the open arch that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"You," the figure said from the deep shadows around him. Soft at first in surprise before growing steadily angrier as he continued. "You're that cape from this morning. What do you want? Why are you in my house?

While my mouth tried to find words to describe a feeling even I couldn't understand, my brain managed to piece together that maybe this _wasn't_ a master effect at least.

When I didn't answer, the figure I assumed to be Danny snarled, "Look, I don't care who you work for. I'll tell you the same thing I told the others. I don't care what you want, the 201st is _not_ for sale at any price for any reason! We're honest people trying to make a living in city you bastards are choking to death. Now leave us alone and get out!"

His rant ended with a shout and the lights suddenly being turned on. Squinting against the glare, I realized that I was right and the man yelling at me was Danny Hebert. Dressed in a pair of sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and clutching a baseball bat in one hand. The other lowering from the light switch.

He blinked as he got his first close look at me. Angry eyes dancing over me before locking on my face. Danny's entire countenance changed immediately, as if he'd seen a ghost. Gone was the defensive posture, his hard grip on the bat loosening even as his face drained of all color. His breathing troubled.

"Tay… oh my god, _Taylor?_ Is, is that really you?"

I didn't answer. Didn't know how to answer. He called me Taylor like it was supposed mean something. Like…

Like he knew me.

But that was impossible. No one knew me. No one...

In the handful of seconds that pass in silence, Danny's eyes filled, spilling down his cheeks. He stepped forward, bat falling from his hand. Arms extended as if to embrace me.

It was enough to kick me out of my stupor. Before he knew what was happening, I pulled one of my cards holding it before me. My power erupted in a high pitched cackle. Light from the volatile object in my hand vying with the over head lamp illuminating the room in a shifting haze of colors.

Danny recoiled, freezing in place.

Until now, I hadn't really entertained the idea that maybe this place was familiar because it was where I'd come from. But as the old man seriously strained to hold back his tears, and that sense of familiarity failed to evaporate, I began thinking that just… maybe…

"Sorry, I don't know any Taylor," I spoke for the first time trying to keep my voice level. "The only name I've ever known is Renée. Renée LeBeau."

My voice seemed to trip something in him. He gasped at my first word, but his face seemed to sink into itself as I spoke.

"No… Renée? It… but!" Danny stuttered. "You look just like your mother. Or… her mother at least. Exactly how I thought she would look when she grew up. You… you've got to be her. You've got to! Look..."

I shifted my arm, "Be very careful about what you are about to do, _mon cher_."

"No, look just let me show you something! It's just right over here. Please?" the older man practically begged.

If this guy was trying to trick me, then he was either a world class actor or a cape with superhuman bullshitting. The only alternative was...

"Alright," I reluctantly agreed. " _Slowly_."

Keeping his hands in sight Danny slowly moved into the living room keeping his motions obvious. I followed a bit slower but kept him in sight. He picked up a piece of paper from a lamp table, handing it to me.

It was my picture. Or, at least there was a picture of someone who looked incredibly like I did a few years ago. Next to it, one that was pretty damn close to what I actually looked like. Other than how I styled my hair straight and my eyes of course.

It was a missing persons flyer. It looked fresh, like it had been printed an hour ago. From where I was standing I could see a stack of them. Missing since July 09. Taylor Hebert. Contact details for Danny Hebert were listed. His work phone, house phone, email and address. A plea written for the world to see, begging for information.

'09. I woke up in New Orleans that year.

"Do, do you remember Kurt?" Danny asked me. "Kurt and Lacey?"

"...no." I choked, feeling a lump form in my throat as evidence stacked before my eyes.

"Emma then? She… she was your best friend. Practically your sister. Here look!" he said, pointing to a slightly vapid looking pre-teen redhead. A kid that looked just like me standing next to her. Arms around each others shoulders, huge smiles on their faces.

I shook my head, unable to answer.

"Your mother…? You couldn't have forgotten her. Annette? She… always called you little owl..."

"I-I don't remember anything from before," I admitted slowly before forcing myself to stop, licking my dry lips nervously, as I came closer and closer to believing that I was standing in front of my actual father.

And that was dangerous because there was no possible way he could be. Everyone lied. Everyone had an angle and this wasn't the first time someone claimed to be my father with the intent to control or use me. Two Mauls made that mistake.

Once.

I'd lived without a past for as long as I've been _me_. This, this couldn't be what it looked like. People didn't…

Ruthlessly clamping down on my rampant emotions I backed away. Both from the fliers, and Danny. I kept my empowered card in hand, but lowered it looking into the distraught man's eyes. "I… don't know what you expect me to say. I don't remember. Not you, not your Annette or any of the others you mentioned.

"I didn't mean to come here like this. I don't even know what it was that made me track you down. I thought you might have been some cape who'd managed to use a master power on me or something. I-I didn't expect anything like this..."

For two years I lived with the fact that if I had parents then they had either abandoned me or were dead in whatever accident that took my memories. I'd left them behind. I had to. Life didn't give second chances. Being too focused on my past would have blinded to me to the present. I tried to find out, even went so far as going to find the notorious thinker Creole Bennie. A man rumored as being able to find out anything, about anyone. If you met his price. Desperate enough to do whatever he wanted if his power could restore my memories, I went to see him. Whatever it took to answer the question of who I was.

Didn't work. Like Devin, his power didn't work on me. That day I forced myself to accept the truth. I wasn't going to remember. Whatever happened, happened. Nothing was going to fix it, nothing was going to change it. Whoever I used to be was gone.

And right then and there I decided if all I had was Renée's life, then I would live it by my own rules. Live my life my way. I would embrace all that life had to give. I would fill the blanks in with good music, good food, good people and exciting work. It was going to be a life of bold living because I wasn't going to hide from what was inside me. It was the only thing I truly knew.

"Taylor…"

"Renée," I corrected, breaking out of inner thoughts and bringing my attention back to Danny. "My name is Renée."

"Okay, Renée," No idea how long I stood there lost in my own world, but Danny had taken the time to get his own head straight. "There's a simple test that will tell both of us the truth."

I narrowed my eyes. Two Mauls suggested tests too. Then again, Two Mauls wasn't this convincing.

"A simple paternity test. Painless and easy."

"Then what?" I softly challenged. "I come and live here? Be your daughter? Live happily ever after?"

"Yes."

I blinked.

"If you are my daughter, no matter what name you use, if you are my Taylor, then this is your home." Danny said. Chuckling weakly as he continued, "I can't promise the happy ever after part though. I think we have a ways to go before that's something we can grab for."

I snorted, giving him a weak smile of my own edging toward the door. "Life doesn't work that way."

"Hey, wait…"

I brought my card back up, still moving slowly toward the door. "I'm sorry, but I really think I should be leaving."

"Just, stop, please!" Danny begged staying where he was. I bit my lip, nodding to him to finish what he had to say.

"I-I won't stop you. Just, think about it? If you are my Taylor, we've lost so much time together already. Can either of us risk losing any more?"

My eyes drifted to the framed photo he showed me earlier. A picture of a husband, wife, daughter, and his daughters friend at a park.

"Your daughter, Taylor?" I asked hesitantly. "She was happy, no?"

Danny nodded, fresh tears threatening to fall. "Yes, we were happy."

I opened the door, pausing at the threshold, "I'll…think about it."

"That's all I can ask," Danny whispered. "Taylor, _Renée_?"

"Yes?" I answered just as quietly.

"Either way you decide, could you, promise me to at least come back and tell me? Personally? Please?"

His voice was so raw, I couldn't help answering before I'd even thought it through, " _oui."_

Stepping through the door I quickly put as much distance between the house and myself as I could without running. My hands were shaking so badly I almost missed grabbing the strap of my backpack I didn't' even know I left outside.

What sort of ridiculous coincidences needed to happen for me to end up in _this town_ and spot this particular guy?

Hand halfway through my hair, I stilled.

There were no coincidences. That was one of the first lessons Jess taught me. There was only shit that happened and I either knew the reasons or I didn't.

Jess was there that first horrid week of my existence. Jess found me weak, starving. Jess fed me, clothed me, taught me what I needed to know to get by on my own. Yeah, Jess made me work my ass off for every single thing, but Jess still did it.

The same Jess that asked me to come to Brockton Bay. To do a job that Jess didn't even need my help to do. I spotted Danny from Jess's safe house. A safe house that Jess set up right _across the street_ from where Danny worked.

The still night around me was broken from the hum of my power cackling along the sidewalk, and in my own furious hiss, " _Jess."_


	6. The Job: Chapter 5

**The Job: Chapter 5**

Opening the door showed about what I would expect for a place Jess was shacked up in. Several paintings that looked like they belonged in an art gallery hung from dirty stained walls. Fading or ripped wall paper was interspaced between them and various bits of furniture were adorned with empty soda cans, pizza boxes, and the occasional newspaper clipping.

Like the walls, Jess's furniture was a mixed bag of whatever caught their fancy. Dark finish end tables contrasted with a sofa that looked like something you'd see on a bad acid trip. A cheap gold painted lamp missing it's shade sat in one corner, and in the other one that looked like it was cast in real gold complete with a crystal shade stenciled in roses.

However, all my attention was on the cape sitting in a lazy boy in front of a monstrous TV playing what looked like a zombie themed first person shooter. Dressed in a pair of tight body shorts and a sports bra.

"Hang on a sec," Jess giggled evilly. The avatar on screen beating an undead girl in a bikini with an electric baseball bat. "I've been hunting for this bitch for over an hour."

I reared back, throwing the volatile card with all that I had. Flying across Jess's living room with the speed of a bullet, it collided with the center of the TV and exploded in a shower of sparks, glass, and electronics with enough force to throw Jess out of the chair.

"What the fuck, you crazy cajun cunt!?" Jess screamed rolling easily to a crouch. "I actually paid for that TV!"

" _You knew!_ "

"You high?" Jess yelled back confused. "I thought I taught you to stay away from pedo-creepers in white van's giving away free candy."

"Hebert!" I hissed.

"Oh." Jess blinked. "Well, that would explain why you didn't answer my calls yesterday. How did it go?"

"How did it go?" I yelled. "That is what you have to say about this complete fuck up you dumped on me?"

"You know, your accent gets almost unintelligible when you're angry?" Jess casually noted. "And yeah, I'm curious. He your daddy or what?"

Trying to keep from losing any more of my control than I had, I whispered, "Why?"

"Why what?" Jess asked confused. "Why am I curious? I mean, fuck, this is like the cape version of Day's of Our Lives and shit. Why wouldn't I be curious?"

" _Pic kee toi_ , Jess! _Fee pue tan_ , you know what I meant," I bit back. "I get that you troll everyone. I get that's your thing, but _why_ didn't you just _tell_ me? Why the hell would you do something like _this_ to _me?_ "

Slowly standing Jess's face blanked. "What's the first thing I taught you when I took you in?"

"Everyone lies." I answered forcing myself not to press.

"No, what was the first thing, not the most important," Jess corrected.

"Everyone has a price to charge," I replied frowning. "And a price to pay. Nothing in this world is free."

"Those aren't just words, kid," Jess nodded. "That's a fucking fact. That was the first thing I taught you because that was the first true fact of life I learned myself."

"What?"

"In some ways, I envy you kid," Jess said. "You don't remember your trigger. The shit that led up to it. I fucking wish I could forget mine."

"And what the hell does that have to do with this sick joke you played on me?"

Jess shook her head. "What joke?"

"You knew Danny Hebert was looking for someone who looked just like me. The job to bring me here. The safe house right across the street from where he worked. You told me yourself years ago that there were no coincidences, Jess. You set this whole thing up!"

"Yeah, I did."

"Why?"

"Because he might actually be your dad," Jess answered. "That meant something to you a couple of years ago. I thought you would want to know."

"Then why didn't you just tell me!"

"Because nothing in this life is free," Jess answered immediately. Obviously getting frustrated with me. "If I told you I found someone who might be your dad and gave you his address what would you have done? I know what I would have done. I would have fucking laughed in your face before hitting you with my sledgehammer until you were a pile of quivering meat for trying to fuck with me."

"Jess? No I wouldn't have..."

"Then you're a fucking idiot," Jess's head shook again, narrowing eyes at me. "If I'd have given you this shit the first thing you should have done is throw it in my face like the bullshit lie it should have been. I set this up so that everyone got something out of it and if you happen to bump into him and decided to look into it, that was on you. That's how shit works."

I shook my head. I couldn't even articulate to myself how that didn't make any sense to me.

"My current boss had me doing a job that just happened to be the same area he was putting up his flyers. The only thing not right in the picture was your eyes. When I saw that I knew it was something you needed to know."

"So you fabricated a job to bring me here?" I asked unable to comprehend what Jess was trying to say.

"I didn't make up a fucking thing. Asshole did steal my parking spot so I was going to steal something of his anyways. I just figured that considering fuck nut happens to be some wealthy CEO doing it quieter would be better. Also more amusing, which it was. I snuck back and took pictures. The look on his face when he spotted the skylight was the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen."

"And the safe house?" I asked weakly trying to get the conversation back on track. At the moment there was nothing more I cared less about than Max Anders reactions to Jess stealing his piano.

"Well, you needed a place to stay after the job and I needed another safe house anyways," Jess shrugged. "Etiquette is always giving space to talent you import for work, you know that. If you guys didn't bump into each other there, I'd find a way to get you in the same area as he put up flyers. There's always jobs going everywhere in this city and that guy gets around. Never posts them in the same place twice. Surprised this city isn't wall papered in the damn things."

I bristled a little, annoyed. I'd come here with righteous fury, certain that I had every right to be pissed off, and now the only thing I could think to say was, "Thanks, I guess."

"Don't thank me, buy me a new TV. I want a bigger one. Something sexy with nice curves," Jess said, waving hands in a suggestive manner.

It took everything I had not to throw another card.

 _XxXGambitXxX_

The sun was well on it's way into the sky when I arrived on the boardwalk. After leaving Jess's place I went to the safe house needing a quiet place to think. Sitting on the roof didn't give me any answers to the questions rolling through me and I eventually had to get away when I noticed Danny's car wasn't parked in the lot across the street.

I got plenty of looks dressed in my normal armor and new coat. Now and then someone would pull a cell phone but they quickly disappeared when I frowned at them. After a while, people stopped, or at least, they didn't let me see them doing it.

I guess capes didn't hang out around here like they did back home. Then again, I haven't been here at night yet, so I couldn't say they didn't. Still, the attention was distracting enough that I wasn't obsessing over the events of the last few days. Which in itself was a blessing, if still a bit irritating.

Passing a electronics stores with several big TV's on display, I instead approached a street vendor selling various touristy things. Brockton Bay post cards, shot glasses, typical stuff like that. I wasn't really paying attention much as I browsed and moved on before I was finished since my presence seemed to make the vendor nervous.

I missed Frenchmen Street. People didn't stare at me there.

Tired of the glances and whispers, I moved toward the water finding a bench to claim. So far the day was looking like it was going to be the nicest I'd experienced yet. Cloudless, sunny, and best yet, warmer. The wind wasn't bad. Enough to send little waves toward me and keep my hair from sitting still on my shoulders.

How was I supposed to deal with all this?

I'd just gotten everything going my way. Despite Jess's falling out with Amos, he wasn't bad to his tenants and didn't care who we were or what we did as long as we didn't blow up his stuff. Easy access to music, food, whatever I was in the mood for at the time. Amos kept a tight rein on his enforcers and for the first time in memory, I didn't have to worry about someone breaking into my place and stealing my or Penny's stuff.

And Penny was a great roommate. She didn't coddle me or worse, try to control me just because she was older than I was. Then again she was less mature than I was regardless that she was ten years older. She didn't bring her boyfriends to the apartment. Didn't make too much noise during the day, which was appreciated even if we were both night owls and were generally sleeping during that time.

It wasn't all good, I reasoned. While I had plenty of opportunities for work to pay rent, I also had my share of enemies there. Rat King was always sending his people after me or trying to interfere in my business. After that thing with Two Mauls there was the occasional retaliation strike. And the less said about local PD trying to pin me for crimes I didn't commit, the better. Lazy bastards.

It was different for those I actually had done, but they didn't know that. If they had something concrete, Drummer would have sent heroes after me long ago. Fishing was about all they could do. They knew it. I knew it. But, that was the game.

"Excuse me?"

Turning I found an older blond woman standing next to the bench I'd claimed. She was not exactly over weight but didn't look like she spent much -if any- time in the gym. Instead, she was a bit mousy, dressed in business attire, and stood several inches shorter than me, at least. Rectangle glasses covered a piercing set of intelligent blue eyes. Her hands clutched a small brown paper bag tightly when she noticed my eyes but other than that, didn't react.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" She asked which made me raise my eyebrow questioningly.

"W-would that be alright?"

There was an… apprehensive air about her. I knew instinctively that she was lying. There weren't many businesses near here so this would be a pretty long walk for lunch, no matter where she worked. But then, why approach me?

"There are other benches," I hesitantly stated.

"True, but I always sit here," the woman countered. "I love the view. But if you would rather..."

Sliding over to give her room, I shook my head. "Up to you."

She sat, taking a moment to settle herself to her satisfaction. Ignoring her I went back to watching the water.

"Would you like some?" She asked; offering me a carrot stick. In her hands was a small tupperware containing more, as well as celery and a few other veggies.

"Uh, thanks," I answered taking it.

"You're welcome," she said giving me an awkward smile.

"Do you normally do this? Sit next to random scary capes and offer them veggies?"

"Only when they are sitting on my bench during my lunch break."

"And how many times has that happened?"

"Counting this one?" she asked. "Once."

I couldn't help but chuckle which earned me a genuine smile from the woman sitting next to me.

"Catherine," she introduced herself. "Catherine Bower, for now anyways. What's your name? Cape name of course, I hear most are pretty particular about that stuff."

Still chuckling I took her hand. "Renée LeBeau. My friends call me Renée."

Catherine's eyes widened before she looked around quickly before she whispered, "You didn't have to do that, but thank you."

"It's nothing," I said shaking my head before shrugging. "I've never been big on the whole secret identity thing."

"Oh?"

"No. Maybe it's because it took me a long time to, well, most people don't react well to how my eyes look. It makes them uncomfortable but it's not exactly easy to hide something like that and it took a long time before I even knew how. Much less could afford it. So, I figure, why hide? I am what I am. If people don't like that, then we're not likely to be friends. Which is fine, as long as they can be civil about it. There are others who will not judge for such a thing."

"That's a mature way to look at it," Catherine said. "Reminds me a bit of New Wave's philosophy."

I nodded. I knew of them, but not enough to be sure of anything so didn't comment.

"Is that why you're here?" Catherine asked. "In Brockton Bay."

At my questioning look, she continued. "You don't sound like a brocktonite. Less non-rhoticity and cot–caught merger. More twang. I'd almost say french but that's not quite right, is it?"  
 _  
"Parlez-vous français ?"_

 _"Un peu. Suffisamment que je ne pense pas que je le charcute trop, mais ça fait quelques années que je n'ai pas pratiqué avec quelqu'un de fluent."_

"It's not bad, but I'm not exactly an expert myself," I said, switching back to english. She was probably better than I was, but it was clear she was out of practice while my french was more suited to the back streets of New Orleans. "But you're right, I'm not from around here. I'm visiting from southern Louisiana."

"Oh?" Catherine asked. "What brings you to Brockton Bay, if you don't me asking. Business or pleasure?"

"Business," I answered after a few moments to consider it. Sighing as I turned back to the water, "But then things became...complicated."

"I'm...sorry? I guess," Catherine laughed self consciously. "Sorry, but I don't know what to say to that. Do things like this happen a lot in your line of work?"

"My line of work?" I hedged giving the woman a side glance.

"Being a cape," she clarified. "Does weird stuff happen a lot when capes are doing, whatever it is they do?"

I relaxed a little bit. Just a little as I started to understand what she meant. "Not like this. At least, I've never heard of anything like this happening to anyone."

"Of course, you don't have to give me any details," Catherine said. "But is this weird thing something you can just ignore? Pretend didn't happen?"

 _No._

I shook my head.

"Well, is it something you can beat up until it stops being weird?" Catherine asked, punching the air in front of her in a bad boxer's pose.

I was too busy laughing at the unexpected question to answer. Catherine joining me after a few moments, "What? Isn't that what capes normally do?"

Getting a hold myself, I shook my head, "Not my style, _mon'amie_."

"Fine. So you can't ignore it and you won't beat it up," Catherine dramatically huffed. I would have been more impressive is she wasn't still giggling when she did it. "Is there any direct way of resolving it?"

"That's the question," I muttered.

"Ah. So, it's not a matter of not understanding the situation, it's more that you don't like your options on how resolve it?"

"Not exactly, but something like that."

"Okay. Well then I guess it's a matter of resolution."

At my confused look, Catherine continued. "No matter how strange you might think your situation is, it's probably not as strange as you're making it out to be. Granted, I don't know what it is so I'm probably wrong, but it might help if you treat it as just another normal problem."

That made sense. I didn't exactly agree, but I nodded thinking about what she was saying. "It's a bit more complicated than that. I have a...question I think I need to have answered."

"But you don't like how to get that answer?" Catherine asked.

I shook my head. I didn't. "It's worse than that. Depending on the answer, it will likely change a great deal of my current...situation."

"Oh. So part of the problem is that you are afraid to rock the boat."

I nodded.

Catherine blew out a breath leaning back. Quite as she ate one of veggies. I sat quietly looking over the water.

"But you're going to."

It wasn't a question.

"I don't think I can not."

"Is the change that scary?"

"No, but I spent a great deal of time to get this far. To throw it away…"

"But is that what you are doing?" Catherine pressed. "Are you throwing away something, or are you just...changing things to something new?"

I sat silently.

"Maybe that's the problem," Catherine suggested. "Maybe you're looking at the situation from the wrong angle. Is there anyone else that is affected by this situation?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you should talk them," Catherine said. "Instead of trying to solve this by yourself, maybe you should include them. More minds are better than one. And if they are affected by the answer as much as you are, it wouldn't be right to cut them from the process."

That sobered me. She was right. This was a big thing and it affected Danny as much as it affected me. If he really was my father, this situation wasn't going away. If I wasn't his daughter then that too was a situation that wasn't just going to go away.

I nodded.

The rest of Catherine's lunch passed quietly as she seemed to sense I needed to think. I was grateful and when we parted, I thanked her. Her advice was surprisingly helpful and I now had a plan for what needed to happen.

Now, how to convince Danny to go along with it?

 _XxXGambitXxX_

"This is a terrible idea."

"This is a great idea," I disagreed with a huge smile on my face.

"There is no way this is going to end in anything except tears," Danny mumbled. "And mangled bodies."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop being so dramatic."

"Keep your eyes on the road!"

Laughing, I shook my head, feeling the wind rush through my hair at sixty miles per hour through the poor seal on my side of the jeep. Sitting next to me Danny didn't laugh. Instead maintaining his death grip on the roll bar and door looking a deciding greenish, despite the fact my driving wasn't really that bad.

"How did I ever let you talk me into this?" He mumbled.

"It was surprisingly easy," I answered smirkingly. "It only took an hour. I honestly figured it would have taken at least three times that long to get you to see reason."

"That is not what I meant Taylor," Danny said.

"Renée."

Danny sighed, "Right. Renée. Sorry, I'll work on that."

I nodded gratefully. "To seriously answer your question, you agreed to come with me because this is the best way to get the answers we both want."

"I don't see how driving to southern Louisiana and getting lost in a swamp is going to get us any answers," Danny argued.

"Bayou," I corrected. "And I know exactly where we are going. I've been there before."

"We could have gotten a simple paternity test at a hospital in Brockton Bay. It would have taken all of thirty minutes."

"And taken weeks to get results back," I said not mentioning that it would also put me in a system I'd been avoiding like the plague. "This isn't a question I want stewing on my shoulders for weeks. Do you?"

"No, but why do we have to drive halfway across the country?"

"Because that is where Creole Bennie is," I answered.

"And we're driving there, why?"

"Because he'll know if we arrived in any way that generates a trail," I answered again. For the third time. "He's not what you could all a 'good guy' and if we leave a trail others can follow, he won't help us. He'll...do something else."

"Okay, fine," Danny said, but I knew better. He really didn't like that part of my plan. "But I'm still iffy on how you convinced me to let you drive."

"I'm a good driver."

"Not the point, Renée. You don't have a Driver's License!"

"Of course I have a Driver's License," I argued casually. "I bought one from a forger last year. I paid an outrageous amount so that it was as near perfect as it could be. It's also guaranteed to pass any inspection. Even someone running the actual ID. That cost extra, but so worth it."

"What… How can… Forger? _What?_ "

"It's not polite to ask those kinds of questions from those kinds of people, Danny," I shrugged. "But I know he's the best in the state, and that was enough for me."

Before Danny could shout whatever it was he as about to shout next, my phone rang. "One second, Danny."

"Hands on the wheel!" Danny shouted as I pushed the button on my ear bud to answer the call.

"Bonjour."

"You stole my jeep!" Jess screamed loud enough that Danny turned to look at me in surprise.

"I did?" I asked barely holding back my giggle at her reaction.

"Where the fuck did you stash it? I'm late for work!"

"It's on the 95," I answered honestly.

"What the fuck is it doing on the goddamn 95?"

"Going south."

Pure silence only broken by the wind and occasional car passing faster than I was willing to drive. That was changed by Jess's hysterical laughter after several long moments.

"Oh you fucking bitch," Jess cursed fondly. "You better not fucking scratch the paint."

"Yes, because neon pink with purple flames is such a great paint job," I deadpanned getting an unexpected chuckle from Danny.

"Yes it is, and if you scratch the paint, I'll fucking hurt you. And you better fucking bring it back. I love that Jeep way more than I like you."

"Of that, _chérie_ , I have no doubt."

Jess snorted. "Take care of yourself kid."

"You too, Jess. I'll see you when we get back."

"I'm not going to like Jess when I meet him. Am I?"

"No one likes Jess," I chuckled not disagreeing.. "Jess is an acquired taste. Like anchovies or sardines, but not as likeable."

"Oh God, please give me strength," Danny mumbled making me laugh.

"Don't worry Danny," I consoled him. Poorly I'd admit, but still. Wasn't it the thought that counted? That was how this stuff was supposed to go, right? "You're going to love the New Orleans nightlife. Whatever your vice, I can put you on the street or in a room to satisfy it. Music, food, drink, whatever. Just let me know."

"Just what every father wants to hear from his daughter," Danny chuckled weakly.

I smiled back trying to ignore the pained look that he probably didn't realize he was showing. Part of me hoped that Beenie would tell him I wasn't his daughter. Not because I didn't like Danny but because I did. So that he could cherish what memories he had of her, and not compare them to someone like me. It was quickly becoming obvious his Taylor and I were very different people.


	7. Road Trip: Chapter 1

**Road Trip: Chapter 1**

Dropping the gear into neutral, I pulled the emergency brake. Next to me, Danny turned toward me raising an eyebrow at the bills I'd taken from my wallet.

"Would you mind?" I asked partly debating saying more, but not wanting this to be any more awkward than it already was. "I'm a bit too memorable."

"I have my wallet, Renée," Danny said. "Keep your money."

"This isn't the kind of place where people expect you to use a credit or ATM card, Danny," I argued wryly, waving the bills at the motel.

Proving he got my point, Danny looked at the building with something akin to disgust. But if that was for the building itself, or the kind of motel was debatable.

"You know, I'm sure we could find something else."

"It's late, we're both tired from driving non-stop all day, and I don't know about you, but I could use a chance to move about. Not to mention shower." I argued. "Besides, no trails."

"This is rather excessive. Isn't it?" Danny asked.

"Maybe," I answered. "But when you're dealing with someone like Creole Bennie, you do things his way, or you don't do business at all. It's the way it is."

"And you're sure we have to involve this particular person? There has to be better ways to do this. Other thinkers or something we can look into."

"Sure, we could take that risk," I answered. "Might even find something after days of looking, then deciding on which option would be best. Of course then there's whatever delay there is in either results or convincing the person to help. Unless you personally know a really powerful thinker?

Danny shook his head, deflating slightly, confirming my choice.

"Then Creole Bennie is our best shot at getting answers. He's not someone I like, but he's someone I trust to do what he agrees to do. And like I said, when doing business with Bennie it's his way or just don't show."

"Right," Danny mumbled with a twitch to his eye. Reluctantly, he took the money, exited the jeep, and headed for the night clerk.

I blew into my cupped hands trying to warm them while I watched Danny talk to the clerk. The trip so far wasn't bad, though I was more exhausted than I was willing to admit. The farthest I'd personally driven on my own was during my second foray into Baton Rouge. I wasn't very comfortable behind the wheel back then but it was a necessity of the job. However there was a mind numbing boringness to long trips like this that seemed to eat at you. At least it did me. Something about these long never-ending roads, the more experienced drivers going faster and more recklessly than I was comfortable with, and finally the fact the radio was broken, all lead to a monotonous ordeal that I felt I had to press myself through.

While Danny wasn't the most talkative companion, he had his moments. It was still all kinds of awkward. I wasn't the sharing type, not for truthful details, but he was fairly persistent and constantly found ways to rephrase questions I wouldn't answer in hopes that I would. Then there were the questions he half expected me to ask and when I didn't, he would. So far we had yet to find common ground for anything and every conversation had ended in an uncomfortable silence before either of us tried to bring up a different topic to make the miles go by easier. Then we'd stop for food and a bathroom break and it would be another thirty miles before either of us worked up the guts for another fruitless attempt at conversation.

So awkward.

It didn't help that I wasn't willing to share and he seemed almost desperate for any details he could get. He didn't push, thankfully, but it was still mildly annoying.

Finished, Danny started walking back. Red in the face and clenching his left fist tightly looking like he was muttering something to himself. Apparently trying very hard to keep his temper under control from whatever his conversation with the clerk was. Exiting the car I took a moment to stretch out finally.

Still looking on the edge of a fit, Danny stopped on the other side of the jeep before looking away quickly grunting, "Room 112."

Keeping my face bland, I nodded. Grabbing my traveling case while Danny grabbed his bag. Locking the doors I followed him to our accommodations for the night.

Despite the outside appearance, the interior was fairly clean and I was happy with the fresh looking sheets and blankets on the two beds inside. It was always a crap shoot when using these kinds of places.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Danny took the one closest. His daughter or not, he was still an older man and I -despite my made up appearance- was still a teenage girl. Judging by Danny's oddly quiet attitude since we arrived, I wasn't the only one who felt uneasy with the implications. Seeing the two separate beds, and his reaction to what I suspected his conversation with the night clerk was like, slightly eased the unpleasant feeling that had been building inside me as the night deepened.

"Did you want the bathroom first?" I asked, setting my own case on top of the other bed.

"No thank you, Taylor," Danny answered automatically. My eye twitched but before I could say anything he winced, visibly. "Sorry, Renée. I really am trying."

"I know," I sighed. "Just keep in mind, Danny, that we're likely to find out I'm not your Taylor. Despite how much we look alike. It would be better if neither of us get too attached before we know for sure."

"I guess we'll see when we meet with your villain friend."

"Business contact. A reluctant one on both our parts, I'll add," I replied chuckling a bit at his sullen tone. "And I guess we will though villain is a strong word to associate with Creole Bennie."

"And what would would you use?"

"Scoundrel," I replied dryly. "Or hermit. Don't get me wrong, he's not a very nice guy. He drinks a lot of his own homemade and hates people. Cross him, and he'll kill you without any regrets. The only reason he even lets people come to him is that it keeps him from having to go into town for things he wants or needs."

"Sounds like a villain to me," Danny mumbled.

"Technically by that narrow view, so am I," I blandly said.

Danny winced.

Shrugging I went back to my unpacking, "Most people look at me, see my eyes and the first thing they think of is demon or devil. Villain isn't much of a stretch from there. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people freeze or actually turn and run when they see me. How many times I've been called 'abomination' or 'freak'. Most of the times with some kind of biblical reference. And that was before I ran with a gang."

"Tay, Renée. You know I don't think that, don't you?" Danny asked obviously avoiding the last tidbit I revealed.

"Only because you think I'm your daughter," I answered back, sighing. Finished with gathering what needed. "Your first reaction to me was more honest."

"That's not true…"

"Viewpoint Danny. Mine is not less important than yours," I said, cutting him off. "Maybe I'm too loose with mine, but I have a unique perspective. I can understand why Bennie retreated into the bayou. If my power worked like his, I'd have done the same thing."

"A-Annette used to follow that kind of thing," Danny said, looking at the draped window, and purposely not at me. "Did his powers do something like they did to you?"

"It's more that they don't come with an off switch. At least, that's what Bogget said," I corrected. "But mostly it's probably that Bennie didn't really like people even before his powers forced him to see the dirty laundry of everyone he touches."

I watched him frown in a sort of abject sympathy as he thought through the implications of a power like Bennie's. We'd touched on it a little bit on the trip, and I could see Danny mentally reviewing his own comments while factoring in the new perspective I'd offered.

"I can't imagine what that would be like. People can be very ugly to each other for the most petty of reasons. But that still doesn't excuse villainy, Renée."

"Maybe," I answered with a shrug. "I'm going to a shower and change."

"...alright."

Entering the bathroom with my necessities, I locked the door. Biting my lip for a moment before taking on of my cards altering it slightly before sliding it into the space between the door and frame. Letting go, it innocently sat there in complete contrast to the trap it was. Just in case. I'd been wrong before.

Once finished with my shower and dressed in a shirt and sweats, I paused hearing Danny's voice. Removing the card and lock, I eased the door to listen.

"...rt. No. Ah, that should be fine. Have Derrik take three extra with him tomorrow. Robert said he thought he saw some Merchants in that area yesterday. I don't want them anywhere near that site."

I heard a shuffling of papers before Danny sighed. "I know. No, late tomorrow maybe? It's a long way and when was the last time I left Brockton Bay for anything?"

"Yeah, she knows. It was her idea. Seriously. Yeah, she's special like that. I know, she's been really supportive and it's not like any of us have had time to really adjust before it came to this. I don't know. Maybe?"

"Honestly? I have no doubts. She's...different. Very different but… Hmm? I can't explain it, I just know."

Closing the door quietly I toweled my hair dry in here to give him time and privacy to finish his call. Funny, I didn't think he had a cell phone. I wondered who he was talking too. Sounded like someone he worked with. Maybe a subordinate? Or that guy he called before we left to let know he would be gone a few days?

That was probably it, though that last part was concerning. Hearing him still talking when I finished I went ahead and started applying cleanser to my face. He was a grown man and if he didn't want to listen to reason and chose to get his hopes up, that was going to be on him. I tried to warn him. If nothing else when the bad news came, I'd take him into one of the more..interesting areas of New Orleans. Penny could probably help with that. If anyone knew about that kind of thing, she did.

Finished with my routine, I couldn't think of anything else to delay walking back out there. Packing up my things I opened the door making it obvious.

"...hang on a second," Danny asked. Turning to me as I stepped out. His eyes moved over me quickly and he blinked several times before he turned around. "I'll call you back. Yeah, take care of the guys for me and thanks for understanding."

Danny hung up. I bit my tongue instead of snapping at him for using the landline. He probably didn't know that these places always kept records of all outbound calls for a variety of reasons. Instead I sighed, mentally adjusting my plans for tomorrow for the delay I knew this was going to cause.

"Sorry but I needed," Danny apologized before I cut him off.

"It's fine. Shower's free."

"Okay," he said slowly obviously knowing that something wasn't fine. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," I replied. I guess it wasn't a total loss. It just meant we were going to need to spend a day in town before heading out into the bayou. The phone record probably wouldn't be that big a deal, it wasn't like it meant anything except that someone called Brockton Bay. But then again, Bennie was fickle like that and the idea of wasting a trip into the dark corners of the Louisiana bayou to find out he moved locations would be the icing on an already crappy cake.

"Yeah, it's fine," I repeated, packing away my things and setting out tomorrow's clothes with my makeup case. "Just in the future, if you're on a trip where you shouldn't leave any kind of trail, remember to not use landlines from stop and go motels? It sort of self defeating. You could have used my cell phone. I change out the sim every other day when I'm on a job and I have plenty left."

"Ah," Danny mumbled sheepishly. "Sorry, this is my first spy mission."

What irritation I had crumbled under my chuckle. Shaking my head I smiled at him letting him know it was alright. "Well, next time you'll know better."

Satisfied with my arrangements, I climbed into my bed trying to get comfortable. Danny meanwhile moved about, obviously getting ready for his own shower.

That uneasy feeling in my gut was still kinda there. When Danny moved passed heading for the bathroom I decided that it was probably better if I just dealt with it.

"Hey, Danny?"

"Yes, Renée?"

"You seem like a fairly stand up guy," I said. Keeping myself facing the wall.

"Thanks. I do try," he returned with a soft chuckle.

"I just wanted to you to know, that I see that. I know that this whole thing, it can't be easy for you but you've been really good about everything. Especially the things I know you're not comfortable with. People generally don't make this kind of effort. Not for me and not just because of my eyes or the fact I can explode them in a hundred nasty ways. Not without wanting...something."

He made no audible reaction but the utter lack of sound spoke louder than a gasp would've. Hours on the road, and the subject of my powers had actually never come up.

"So," I hesitated but knowing I had to say this. If only for my own peace of mind. "If you try touching me tonight, when I break you, it will be quick."

"Good night, Renée." Danny said. Not even slightly offended or anything either. He almost sounded, well, _proud_.

"Good night, Danny." I whispered back, flipping a card from a deck I had hidden under my pillow at the light switch and plunging the room into darkness.


	8. Road Trip: Chapter 2

**Road Trip: Chapter 2**

The last few hours of our trip passed in the same vein as most of it except I was more talkative once we arrived in New Orleans. Pointing out various landmarks or bits of history I'd picked up. Sometimes slipping into things I'd done in those areas which got me raised eyebrows or sighs when he wasn't trying to mask other emotions from me.

I was never more happy to see the familiar facade of home than I was as at this moment. Danny had been doing those last few things more often than not for the last half hour.

Following my gaze, Danny looked over to the right at the small shoe store sandwiched between a couple of other stores. "Do you shop there often?"

I shook my head, still smiling as the light turned green. "No. Well, once. Sort of. A nice stranger bought me my first pair of shoes there a couple of years ago."

"Really?" Danny choked.

"Yeah. It really was nice of him. The pair I'd been wearing was a few sizes too big. I'd scavenged them from a dumpster, but they were causing some nasty blisters, and the soles were a little worn. They kept falling off whenever I ran. He noticed when I was running past him and fell."

I sighed as I reminisced a little. That had been one of the happiest days I'd had in a long time. Jess had been gone for about a month by then and I missed them badly. Sometimes I wished I could find that old man and thank him somehow. Probably saved my life. He definitely helped me earn my dinner that night.

It took a few moments for me to realize that Danny was staring at me with a sort of horror that made me feel a little guilty for talking. Was he offended or something?

"What?" I asked, annoyed.

Oblivious to my inner thoughts, Danny awkwardly asked, "You, ah, mentioned before that you _worked_ with some people for a while?"

That was a bad topic. My time as an enforcer was definitely not something I wanted to get into, ever. Looking around the street I noticed a restaurant I liked. "Ever had cajun food?"

Danny blinked, confused. "Ca-Cajun, food? What does that have to do with–?"

I pointed. "I know the waiter who works there. They make the best creoles in this part of the city. He owes me a favor. If you wanted we can go there for lunch."

"Owes you a favor? As in…"

"I helped him pass his algebra exams last month. Why? What did you expect?" I asked, honestly curious. I was used to being judged. I didn't _really_ expect Danny to be any different once he found out who – _what –_ he was really dealing with in me.

"I never know what to expect with you. My… head jumped to places it shouldn't have. Homeless teenagers who don't even remember who they are, aren't usually owed favors for anything… good."

No they weren't, and I knew that better than he did, considering. I didn't say anything though, letting him continue.

"But… I don't care. I wouldn't care no matter what you told me." his voice petered out for a moment. His eyes shined a little oddly. "Where did you learn? I-If you were homeless then how did you…?"

"Jess, taught me," I replied as he faltered.

"Your friend Jess? The... person you stole this jeep from?"

"Yup."

"Is that normal?" Danny asked seemingly confused. "I mean? She…and you repay her by stealing her jeep?"

"It's Jess. I do this to them every time I can get away with it," I replied with a laugh. "If you knew Jess, you'd understand."

He chuckled a little hysterically. I could practically see his mind turning over how easily I could end up stealing _his_ jeep. Car. Whatever. Probably better not to mention that brief time I worked for Car Jack.

Yeah, that would probably be for the best...

He didn't ask about that though. Instead he smiled at me with that damn sheen to his eyes again. "I probably don't want to know, but how many times does this make it?"

"This is my third," I answered, honestly. "But this is the first time I kept it this long. I usually just move it across town and hide it in someone's garage when Jess annoys me."

"Ah, okay, I guess," Danny fumbled before asking, "So, your friend Jess taught you algebra?"

I laughed which seemed to confuse Danny even more. I couldn't get my sentences straight until I turned down the next street.

Shaking the last of my humor I said, "Sorry, but the idea they could possibly think algebra was worth teaching to anyone, it's just funny."

"Oh. Well, what did Jess teach you?"

"To survive," I stated shortly; all humor drained out of me.

He looked horrified again and I winced.

"Shit. That came out wrong," I lied. "Could you just… stop asking? Please? Listen, does Cajun sound good or not? If you don't want creoles I know a place that makes an unbelievable gumbo. Or we could go for something a bit less..."

"Dammit, Renee you have to talk to me! I want to know; I need to know!"

"No you don't," I said flatly.

"Your life was ruined, and that's on me. That's _my fault._ Please don't shut me out."

"How in the hell is it your fault?" I asked shortly. "We don't even know if we'd ever met before!"

"I do," he insisted. "And I should've… should've–!"

"Dammit!" I cursed, turning into the parking garage. "Would you just stop _pushing?_ So I was homeless! Bad shit happened to me. I did what I had to. What difference does it make? Nothing's going to change any of it. Now you you keep asking me to spill all the horrible little details and then act surprised when they actually _are horrible!"_

My rant seemed to stop him from saying whatever he was trying to say. I sighed, immediately feeling bad for snapping but…

"This is why I've been trying to avoid telling you about anything," I said sourly, finding a stall and parking.

"I just want to know what happened to you, Renée," Danny whispered.

Shaking my head at his persistence, I asked, "Why?"

"What?" Danny asked confused.

"Why does it matter?" I clarified.

"It matters because it shouldn't have happened!"

"But it did," I countered blandly. "So, why make a big deal out of it?"

"Renée…"

"No," I interrupted. "I understand that think you need to know. That you want to understand. But, Danny, nothing I tell you is going to give you that. I don't remember. Nothing I tell you will make you feel happy or good. And… it won't absolve you of any guilt you're feeling either."

"It matters," Danny growled before I interrupted him again. "It matters because I want to know _you._ "

I couldn't help it. The words left my lips before I could stop them. "I don't want you to know me."

Before he could stiffen I continued. "Not.. not like that! Not. Dammit…I don't want you to know what I had to live through okay? I don't want anyone to know about any of that. I don't want anyones pity. That's not who I am."

It took several calming breaths to get gather my thoughts. "Fine. Yeah, I was dealt a bad hand. I woke up alone with no memories. I didn't have any money, any place to go, and no idea how I was going to take care of myself or what to do."

Next to me, Danny remained still as I stared straight ahead. "But, I was alive and I wasn't someone's plaything either. Okay, that first week was miserable. I was always cold and I can't even describe how hungry I was most of the time. But then Jess found me. Jess took me in and taught me what I needed to know to survive on my own."

"Your friend taught you to steal," Danny muttered disapprovingly, thought without any real heat.

"Yeah, Jess did, and being a thief isn't something I'm ashamed of, Danny," I said, turning to look him in the eye. To his credit, he didn't flinch. "I'm actually rather proud of it. Thanks for making me admit that, before I find out whether or not we're actually related."

Danny's lips twitched but other than that, he was doing a good job of keeping his face passive considering how this conversation had gone. "Trying to hide the real you until you're sure I am or am not your father? To… what… avoid disappointing me?"

"I don't hide who I am, Danny. I'm a thief, one of the best, and everything that entails. So, yeah. Exactly. I was trying to spare your feelings in case I am, in fact, your daughter. I've never had someone whose approval I… I cared about before and even though I have no idea what you're Taylor was like, you obviously think the world of her."

Seeming taken back by my own outburst, I frowned, turning away again. "You're not part of the world I live in, Danny. You are a normal guy. A civilian. And, to be honest, if we didn't have this whole question hanging over us, I'd never had looked twice at you. Not because I don't think you're worth knowing, but because you shouldn't have to be apart of any of this."

"And you think that if I were to find out my daughter is a thief, I would... what? Pretend she didn't exist? Get rid of her!?"

I raised my eyebrow at his heated words. "I think you'd be ashamed of her…or worse, try to change her to fit the little girl you lost."

Danny flinched back as if I'd struck him but he rallied quick, "Maybe it would look like that to her. Another way to look at it would be that I was trying to help her be the person she was meant to be, not the one events forced her to become."

"Dammit. Stop being fucking reasonable. It's annoying as hell," I snorted. My bad joke actually got a short chuckle from Danny before I continued. "What makes you think she would want to change? Or rather, _I_ would?"

"Do you, Taylor?" Danny asked intensely. "Want something more than the life you have right now?"

I didn't ignore the use of his daughter's name, but I didn't counter it either. Much as I hated to admit it, something about it sounded… right. It was making this more difficult.

"Other than this conversation, my life right now is pretty damn good," I smirked. "I would know; I built it that way."

Danny, oddly again, didn't seem to disapprove. Instead he just said, "Then let me have a place in it, okay?"

My eye twitched. He was fucking persistent if nothing else.

"Do you really think you can handle a place in my world, Danny?"

"Yes, I do," he answered confidently.

"How about I let you see what my life is like here before we meet with Bennie," I countered, narrowing my eyes. "Contingent on two things."

"Negotiating? You're really going to negotiate with me?" Danny asked, a slight upturn of his lips showing his amusement at the idea. "Do you even know what I do for a living?"

"The fine art of compromise," I agreed, a small smile of my own joining his. "And I don't need to. So?"

"I feel like this is another meeting with the mayor. Very well, your terms, m'lady thief?" Danny asked, with a little tic at the corner of his mouth and a short bow.

"Three things then. One, you never call me m'lady thief again. Because if you do, I'm going to hurt you. A lot."

Danny laughed at my tone. "No promises."

"Deal breaker," I muttered trying to keep my own amusement down, "Two, no judgments."

"In regard to?"

"Anything you see or hear," I clarified. At his questioning look, I added, "The people I associate with are not your kind of people, Danny. These are not honest labor types. These are people the system forgot. But, they are people who have been good to me."

"So, keep an open mind?"

"To start with."

"Alright, and the last thing?"

"I need to know that no matter what happens, you're not going to tell anyone." At his confused look, I clarified. "Specifically, you won't tell anyone in law enforcement, PRT, or Protectorate the things you may hear, or see."

"Exactly what are you asking me to conceal?"

"Everything," I answered. At his own narrowed eyed look, I explained. "This isn't just about me. I've been playing the game with the various agencies for over a year now. Ever since I decided the direction I that would best suit my needs. But, there are others who don't...have my advantages."

Danny seemed to seriously consider it, "I'm no stranger to hiding secrets from the authorities for the good of everyone involved, but there's a line somewhere. I… I need to know how different my line is from yours."

"Then we're at an impasse," I said evenly.

"Where do you draw the line, Taylor?" Danny asked plainly. "Where in the sand do you say, this far and no farther?"

"Renée," I corrected him this time."And that depends on what you mean."

"I think you know very well what I mean, _Renée,_ " Danny stated.

It went against everything Jess taught me, and several of my own rules to even think what I was thinking. Sitting next to Danny though, I could see he wasn't going to budge on his own personal code. I could respect that. I did respect that -I had a code of my own- but his was being a rather inconvenient obstacle at the moment.

In the end, it came down to if I could trust him to be in the loop. And for some reason I couldn't even explain to myself, I did.

 _I can't believe I'm doing this._

"I have several lines I don't cross," I reluctantly gave. "There's a reason I'm proud of my craft, Danny. It's something I'm good at that doesn't hurt anyone except for insurance companies or some rich guy's pride and wallet. The people who work with me follow my rules and I take care of them. Food, shelter, work. Get them out if they want it, schooling if they need it, get them set up somewhere new if the heat comes down. Get them medical if the heat _really_ comes down."

After several long seconds of staring at Danny's emotionless face, he finally asked, "So let me get this strait. You created a Union...for _thieves_?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that, but before I could even attempt to respond, he started laughing. Loudly. "And… you somehow think you might _not_ be my Taylor?"

"... Renée," I pouted without any real effort to correct him. "And we prefer the term, Guild."

For some reason my comment only seemed to make him laugh harder.

"Alright then," Danny said smiling as he finally calmed down. "I'll agree to those terms if you let me in. Then when we see your thinker, he can tell us what I already know. Until then, I'll stop pushing. How... how about we get that Cajun, okay?"

I smiled, nodding, my throat dry.

Exiting the jeep, I lead Danny to the restaurant with only one real thought on my mind as I considered the older man.

Taylor Hebert, wherever you are, you were one lucky bitch.


	9. Road Trip: Chapter 3

**Road Trip: Chapter 3**

"How was everything?" The waiter asked politely, and not without a hint of amusement.

"Good," Danny choked still looking a bit red in the face. The waiter smiled, his eyes dancing with inner amusement over Danny's predicament. Then again, it was always funny when tourists tried authentic local food thinking they could handle it.

The look on Danny's face when he made that mistake coupled with sheer terror when I added half the contents of the bottle of spice to my own dish was priceless.

"Excellent as always, Bobby," I smiled trying and failing to contain my own amusement. "I forgot to ask earlier, have you heard from your sister Melinda lately?"

Bobby nodded slowly, "Yeah. Very busy lately with her dorm mate though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Apparently she just broke up with her boyfriend and it wasn't pretty," Bobby explained looking me in the eye.

"That's...unfortunate," I muttered. "They were going out for a while now. Six months if I remember right. What happened?"

"Not sure, but Melinda mentioned that he wasn't happy with current events. She's worried he might come back around again and start trouble."

"He's the type."

"From what I heard, he sounds like it. He also sounded like the kind that doesn't like leaving things to sit too long."

"I see," I said, turning to look out the window.

"Refill?" he asked Danny.

Danny nodded several times making Bobby smile again. "Please."

I was still staring out the window when he came back with Danny's water. I didn't break out of my inner thoughts until Danny touched the back of my hand drawing my attention back to him.

"You okay? You seem to be thinking pretty hard about something," Danny noted.

"Yeah. I get that way when a local crime boss breaks out of jail" I replied dryly. "Especially when I'm the one who put him there."

"Excuse me?" Danny asked looking a bit wide eyed and slightly punch drunk.

"I said…"

"I know what you said. What I meant was where did that come from?"

"You were sitting right there," I chuckled. Okay, it was probably bad of me to enjoy the look of absolute confusion and freakout on Danny's face. But, you had to take what little enjoyments you could, right?

"What? You mean, what the waiter's said about his sister's friend?"

Chuckling, I shook my head, "There is no sister, Danny."

"There isn't?"

"Nope," I said trying my best not to start laughing. "You done?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess?" Danny muttered still looking a little frazzled. "I don't suppose you can make the weirdness of this conversation stop being strange, could you?"

"Bobby's a, _good guy,"_ I said carefully looking steadily at Danny.

"Okay...oh. Oh," Danny looked around before whispering, "He works for you?"

"No, but Bobby hears things," I explained while counting bills and putting them on the table. Along with an extra two hundred. "He's a guy in the know, you could say."

Danny easily noticed the extra I added as we got up to leave. "That's a bit excessive, isn't it?"

"You never disrespect a guy in the know, Danny," I muttered low enough for him to hear but not carry. "And I always take care of people who take care of me. Especially when they bring me something like this."

The short walk back to the jeep passed in a silence that was broken the second I started the engine.

"Where are we going?" Danny asked.

"My place," I answered. "I need my other phone as well as some other things."

"Alright. Would you care to explain what all that was about in the restaurant for those of us who are not master thieves?" Danny half joked.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled onto the street. "You mean Bobby?"

"For starters, that would be fantastic," Danny said. "I don't understand how talking about his sister's friend translates as a crime boss broke out of jail."

"Like I said, Danny, Bobby's a guy in the know. He hears things. If it helps, think of him as an information broker."

"Hmm, that's a dangerous line of work. Gangs are tough on snitches and informants, from what I've seen." He paused, thinking for a moment before he came to a realization. "Wait, you said he didn't work for you? Why would he inform you of anything?"

"It's just smart to have your own spies and informants but after awhile, everyone starts figuring out who's reporting to who. I know I make it a priority to know. Once you do, it's easy to pass on false information or even to take them out at that point. Guy's in the know however are neutral. Resources for all of us. Hurt one of them, and words gets around. Suddenly, none of them are willing to share with you. Not to mention it draws the rest of us to retaliate. It's like cutting your own throat."

"So the stuff he told you... Some sort of code, I suppose. Did you develop that yourself, or was there already something in place when you… took over?"

"Little bit of Column A, little bit of Column B," I answered vaguely. "The system was in place long before I woke up here. It's different in every city but I'll admit I helped them change up some things as well as promoted the neutrality thing. Mostly because I work on a similar premise but also because it just benefits me to have more resources than less."

"As for the code itself," I continued. "Think of it as a variation of street slang or Thieves Cant if you're feeling old school. If you know what means what, you can pass along a lot of information that way. Best of all, if anyone in law enforcement is listening or recording the conversation, it's really hard to use in court against you. Handy when your informant works a steady job in one place."

"Huh. I'd be worried about your informant _informing_ the police the details of your Thieves Cant then."

"Again, it's like cutting your own throat. Being neutral means no sides which is a kind of protection all by itself even if it's a bit flimsy. But that only works as long as you can actually do business without your customer fearing getting picked up. That's not to say that guy's like Bobby don't tell the law enforcement things, they do. Unlike most of the players in the city, I actually encourage them to do so."

"Seriously?" Danny asked. "Isn't that cutting _your_ throat?"

"It ups the difficulty, yeah," I agreed uncaringly. "But it promotes the flow of information. Law enforcement is less likely to hassle them in the same way as they would someone dedicated to one side or another. That gives them more room to maneuver, which means they hear more and make more money promoting more people telling them things to keep it all going."

"And the added difficulty for your own operations?" Danny asked.

I smiled, "That's the game and in the end, my competition has a much harder time dealing with it than I do. But they can't just tear it down because then they wouldn't have access to the network any more either. It a Catch 22 I've exploited like you would not believe in the last year.

"And that's what separates me from the others and what makes the Guild what it is. Quality, over barely adequate quantity. Everyone get's caught, unless they don't exist. That's us, we exist, but we don't, and we make far more money doing less jobs despite all the risk."

Shaking his head, Danny said, "This all sounds very complicated."

"Like you would not believe," I smirked. "But that too is part of the game."

"Where did you learn any of this?" Danny asked. A quick look showed him looking...intrigued? Impressed? Interested maybe but I couldn't really tell without taking my eyes off the road.

"Jess taught me some of it, but books mostly," I answered. "I read a lot. Being homeless without any real responsibilities leaves a lot of dead time on your hands. So, I'd go to the library. Even stole an outfit just for, and only for, that. At first it was to starve off boredom, but then because I wanted more than to live on other people's discards or scraps. The only way I was going to get it was to educate myself because no one was going to help me. So I did. Others liked the direction I was going and joined in."

"And your Thieves Guild was born," Danny chuckled.

I nodded.

"Ah, well of everything you just said, that at least makes sense to me. You always did extremely well in school," Danny said surely, and not without a small bit of pride in his voice. "So, a you put a crime boss in jail, and now he's out."

"Something like that. I beat him unconscious a few months ago and left him for the Protectorate to pick up," I chuckled darkly. "I generally try to avoid the bigger gang's. I stay out of their business, and they stay out of mine. We're thieves, not comic book villains looking to take over the world. But Two Mauls pushed and I had to push back or risk him destroying everything I was building. As to the jail thing, he most likely broke out."

"Two… Mauls. Good lord, the villains are finally running out of names…"

I chuckled. It was clearly an attempt to move away from the topic. That was fine with me, I wasn't exactly all that eager to talk about the guy who was most likely after me. Danny kept to his own thoughts for the rest of the short ride. I let him, delving into my own thoughts about what this recent development was going to mean going forward.

Our destination was an apartment complex. A nice four floor brick building that had probably been around for quite awhile. Yet, despite it's age, it was well maintained. Trees stood proudly out front, there was no graffiti, and best of all, there was a pool. Great for those hot summer nights when I just didn't feel like going to my usual haunts. My apartment was on the fourth floor. Not exactly strategically sound, but it did offer a great view of the city.

I paused fitting the key into the lock. Turning to Danny, I noticed he still had that thoughtful look to him and had been following me pretty much automatically. It was only now that I was here, that I thought about him meeting Penny.

Danny noticed me watching him as his eyes refocused, raising an eyebrow questionably.

Shaking my head, I turned back around saying nothing. A quick twist of the key opened the door letting us in. Habitually I looked around not seeing anything out of place except for a couple of glasses I'd acquired a few months ago sitting on our coffee table mixed with some dirty plates. That was a bit odd. Penny was usually pretty good about at least putting them in the dishwasher. Her clothes on the other hand was a completely different story but strangely I didn't see any of them laying around like usual. Not even the usual bra lying somewhere random.

At least that was one thing I wouldn't have to deal with today.

"Penny," I shouted waving Danny in. "I'm back!"

A thump from her bedroom answered me. Looking at Danny I asked, "Not sure what Penny's stocked while I was gone, but did you want something?"

"No thank you…" Danny started to refuse when Penny's door opened. The rest of whatever he planned to say was lost in some kind of gurgle as his throat locked up.

Quickly closing her door, Penny turned back around trying to close a robe that did absolutely nothing to hide the fact she was naked beneath it. Her flushed face and general disheveled appearance completed a picture that I personally rather didn't want in my head.

"Penny," I whined.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly walking toward us completely unembarrassed with how much of her fair skin was on display. "But I wasn't expecting you back for another couple of days."

"But, _here_?"

"They're generally more generous when they don't have to pay for rooms," Penny explained. Which wasn't the point and she knew it. "Also it gives them a more intimate and memorable New Orleans experience."

"That's sort of my issue with bringing them here, Penny."

"Yeah, I know but Amos has been around twice in the last three days asking about the rent," Penny half whined. "He scares me when he's moody."

"You know I was going to cover this month's rents," I reminded her frowning. "And I'll talk to Amos. Rent's not due for another week. He doesn't need to come around and bother you when he knows we've never been late."

"You shouldn't have to cover for me. I can cover my own half of the bills," Penny said trying to straighten her tangled blond hair before leveling me with her most sorrowful look. "I'm really am sorry Renée. You know I wouldn't have brought my boyfriend here if I'd known you were going to show up."

Sighing, I nodded, "I know."

"I'll make it up to you," she said leadingly with a hopeful smile. "I'll make dinner tonight. All your favorites. Okay?"

"Shrimp creoles and gumbo?" I asked lowly trying to not look too interested.

Penny smiled knowingly, "I'll even throw in some oysters just the way you like them and bread pudding."

"Alright," I sighed.

Playfully shoving my shoulder she laughed, "You love my cooking, don't act all put out."

Giving in, I laughed with her. Satisfied, Penny turned her attention to Danny. "So, who's the hunk?"

"No." I answered instantly.

"What?" She asked innocently while clearly leveraging a sultry look at Danny. "He's cute and he looks...limber."

Red faced and clearly uncomfortable, Danny choked looking anywhere but at me and especially not at Penny.

"Penny. Seriously, no." I said feeling my own cheeks heating up.

Ignoring me, Penny held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Penny."

"Um, Danny…"

Interrupting before this could get any more awkward, I asked, "Don't you have a boyfriend to be getting back too?"

"Oh, right," she nodded as if she completely forgot about the guy in her room. Turning back to me she asked, "Hey, ah, were you going to hang out or…"

"Oh hell no," I muttered. "We're leaving just as soon as I get my phone."

"Okay, so I'll, just, keep him...quiet for bit then if that's okay?" Penny asked hopefully.

" _Please,_ " I stressed.

"Thanks, Renée," Penny said winking at Danny. "Looking forward to talking to you later, hon."

Shaking my head, I started walking to my own room. Totally not avoiding looking at Danny. No sir. Hand on the door handle, I turned back to Penny before she vanished back into her own room.

"Hey," I called out softly waiting until she turned back to me. "I've kinda had a lot on my plate lately and forgot to ask. Did you get in? Langlois Culinary?"

Penny's smile widened telling me all I needed to know. "Yeah, and best of all it's being hosted by one of the lead chef's from the Commander's Palace. It's a real opportunity but there's also going to be a lot of people there wanting the same thing I am."

Smiling widely myself, I said, "I'd say good luck, but you're not going to need it."

Her smile dimmed a bit showing her anxiety, "I hope so. Oh, Marcus never showed up to pick up that package you left for him and don't forget I'm making dinner tonight so no running around too late."

"Alright, thanks Penny."

Nodding, she went into her room.

Entering my own room I quickly changed into my armor. Even though New Orleans wasn't as cold as Brockton Bay, I added the coat I picked up there enjoying the addition in the full length mirror. Making sure I had everything and double checking to make sure I had the right phone I left making sure to pick up the thick envelope I'd left for Marcus to handle. I was going to go check in with everyone anyways so it wasn't that big a deal.

Still, Marcus wasn't the type to forget something like this. Not unless something had come up and considering what Bobby said, there might have been more going on than just that.

Giving myself one last look to make sure everything was in place and that I was suitably attired for the day's events, I reentered the living room. Danny still looking a bit flushed was looking at the titles arranged on our book/movie shelf. He looked at me then away quickly.

"I have… never been called a 'hunk' in my entire life," He commented neutrally still looking at the shelf. "Your friend is rather...different than I expected for a roommate."

I didn't reply. After a long moment of silence, Danny turned. By his blinking eyes, he obviously didn't expect what he saw. He straightened, looking me over. Understandable, I supposed. This was the first time he'd seen me as I usually dressed when I was working or tending to business.

I could practically see his perception of reality shifting as he took in my costume, and how it changed me from a regular girl to someone that moved the underground. Until now, everything had just been words. Oh, he knew I was a cape; our little confrontation at his house was more than enough to get that message across. But until now, I don't think he realized exactly what that meant. Until now I was pretty sure part of him just ignored what it didn't want to know. Now, Danny had visual context and it apparently shook him.

"Penny's good people," I stated flatly. "And she's my friend."

He sighed. "Why do you sound so defensive? You… seem to have this opinion of me. That I'm judging you, thinking rudely behind your back about everything you do. I've seen a _lot_ worse than your friend Penny, and I could tell she was good people the moment I laid eyes on her. You have to give me at least a little benefit of the doubt here Tay… dammit. Renée."

I twitched. He was right. I _was_ treating him like he had no idea how the world worked. Like… like one of the people I stole from just because he'd never been homeless like me. That was unfair.

"I probably wasn't quite as prepared to see you as a cape as I'd thought, but I'm not going to suddenly decide to crucify you. Okay? Can you trust me that far?" He asked, sincerely, his eyes forcing me to feel a little guilty.

"I… yeah. You've been really good so far but..." I started to say before changing my mind. This was something we could deal with later. "If you're coming with me, Ground rules. Unless you want to stay here? I'm pretty sure Penny wouldn't mind."

"No, that's alright." Danny quickly said looking a little panicked. I kind of didn't blame him. He didn't know Penny very well, but at times she could be a bit...much. "Ground rules?"

I nodded blandly. "I need to check on some things. Especially with Two Mauls back in play. If you're coming with me then yes, a few simple ground rules."

Seeing I had his attention, I continued, "To my friends, I go by Renée, but most of Guild prefers to call me Gambit. You're a new face, so if you have to say something around the others, Gambit would probably be for the best."

"On that line of thinking," I said once he nodded. "I don't know how much experience you have with capes, gangs, or things like this. But I have a reputation to maintain. That reputation keeps things spinning the right way."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That when I'm talking to my people, don't. Don't interrupt, don't contribute, and most especially, do not contradict me," I clarified.

"Because it would make you look weak?" Danny asked with a raised eyebrow and neutral expression that made me think he was trying hard to understand, but had his own thoughts on the subject.

"Because it's rude," I countered. "But mostly disrespectful. The Guild is a fairly loosely structured organization by necessity, but everyone in the know, knows me. That means they know that when I'm involved, there are certain expectations. While I'm generally easy going, Danny, this is a business and it's a cutthroat one where we all stand to lose a lot more than money if things go wrong. People trust certain key personnel to keep that from happening. That includes me."

"Out there, there is no question if I am your daughter. I'm not some teenage cape. I'm Renée LeBeau. Gambit. I'm the woman who no one has been able to pin for a crime since her debut. The reason why rich people buy elaborate safes, locks, and security because they're afraid I'm going to steal their shinies."

"And no one disrespects the boss," Danny solemnly agreed.

"And no one disrespects the boss," I said allowing a slight grin on my face before I squashed it. "I don't like this stuff, Danny, but this is how the game is played. I can cheat with the best of them, but ultimately, I have to play by the same rules as everyone else. I just decided to play it on a higher level. I already know you're not going to like a lot of what you see but keep it to yourself. At least in front of them. I'll listen to anything you have to say or any questions you have, but don't bring up anything in front of others."

Danny sighed, nodding slowly to whatever he was thinking. After a moment, he gave me a wry smile. "Twenty years."

"Twenty years?" I asked.

"That's how long I made it. For the last twenty years I managed to stay out of the cape scene. Now I'm a henchmen. Worse, I'm my daughter's henchmen."

"Every man has a price," I said feeling my own lips twitch and ignoring the daughter bit. "But you need more muscles to really pull that off a henchmen look. I'd say minion would suit you better. One of the guys with skills to exploit."

"There's a difference?" Danny asked playing along.

"Of course," I cocking an eyebrow as I answered. "Henchmen are expendable. Minions are not. They also get paid more and usually have henchmen of their own."

"You're going to give me my own henchmen?" A sort of giddy light, came over his features, and it was a tad difficult to tell if he was having me on or not.

"Don't be silly," I replied smirking. "Around here we work for a living."

"Haha!" Danny couldn't hold back a laugh. "That… is painfully ironic."


	10. Road Trip: Chapter 4

**Road Trip : Chapter 4**

Moving through the streets of New Orleans, I found I had to reevaluate my original thoughts on Danny a bit. Despite my joking with him earlier, he actually would have made a good henchman.

He didn't complain about the hours it took to move through the organization. He didn't say anything when I was meeting with various contacts, informants, or specialized underlings. He stood there; quiet in a way that meant he was all business calmly looking around. Those who met his eyes didn't look twice.

One of my younger contacts whom I used as a courier for some of our more legal operations asked me where I found the new guy. When I asked why he only said, 'Man looks like a stiff breeze would knock him over, but I wouldn't want to be the one to push him. Something about him makes me think it would be a bad idea, you know?'

I didn't disagree, but mostly because it amused me and I had to admit, somehow Danny did project a presence that made one wonder if there wasn't something more about him. That some of the ground floor guys thought so too lent him an air of legitimacy that I didn't want to break.

Though it did make me wonder if I would find some rumors on the Parahuman's Online about my new 'enforcer'.

Which was a fairly high possibly based on the things I was learning. Two Mauls breaking out of jail had caused all kinds of ripples that I was still thinking on as we headed to our last destination. Law enforcement was nervous and worse they seemed to be expecting something to go down. That meant there were eyes everywhere which was very inconvenient. Not to mention troubling.

Even if half of what I heard was wrong, and I doubted it was, that still meant local PD was out in force. Two Ward's teams had been seen several times moving through areas they usually avoided, and the Protectorate was moving deeper into gang territories. We didn't hold territory ourselves, but we had safe houses, storage, and other such places scattered through the city. It was only a matter of time before someone stumbled across any of them even if it was only by sheer chance.

With that unfortunate bit of business on my mind, we parked across from one of those safe houses. Well, it was more of a crash house. Or rather, it was originally supposed to be. Some of the guys had taken to living here so it was more accurate to say it was their place now.

Getting out with Danny not far behind me, I walked up to the house. Like the others in this part of the city, there wasn't much effort made to keep it up. The residences in this area were just happy to have a roof over their heads that didn't leak. Most of the time.

Inside was about what I expected to find after talking with a few people. Beer bottles were randomly strewn about, empty pizza boxes and other evidence of take out, and the piles of bodies in various states of unconsciousness.

The party I was told, which crawled through several pubs, bars, and streets, had been _epic_.

Shaking my head fondly at the mess, I turned to the only vaguely aware person in the room. Sam sat up awkwardly; his girlfriend whom I barely recognized lay across him drooling on his legs. Sam's normal dusky skin tone looked a little paler than usual as he rubbed his eyes looking around blurrily.

"When I heard," I said loudly making him wince and a few others to groan. Beside me Danny chuckled sympathetically for their reactions. "My first thought was wondering how much bail money I was going to need to acquire. Or if I would."

Sam blinked; trying to focus on me. Or, maybe it was my general direction. I couldn't decide which as I continued, "Judging from what people are saying and what I'm seeing; I take it that last night was suitably…historic?"

"Oh yeah," Sam replied; a goofy smile on his face as his glazed eyes finally seemed to find me. A few weak chuckles around the room and the girl in his lap drunkenly swatting at him for talking.

I rolled my eyes, "I don't suppose it's too much to ask if you know where Marcus is?"

"Yeah, he's back there," Sam said pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Further irritating the girl in his lap, he reached to the floor picking up someone's shoe and half tossed it over the back of the couch.

"Yo, get up."

My smile widened seeing Marcus's tousled head and squinting eyes as he looked around trying to figure out what was going on. My smile equally vanished when I noticed the a hand that wasn't his touching his chest through his open shirt.

"Marcus, a word?" I asked flatly. Something in my voice must have caught Danny's attention as he narrowed his own eyes. He wasn't the only one either.

Around the room a couple of others had started waking up. Two of them looked at me when I spoke. Sam looked between Marcus and me with a look of confusion bleeding into an understanding that he obviously didn't like.

Oblivious to all of this, Marcus nodded standing up and fixing his pants. I turned to Danny ignoring it. "I need to talk to Marcus for a moment. Alone."

Jaw clenched, Danny nodded, "Of course."

Lowing my voice so only he would hear me I said, "It's not your concern."

Frowning, Danny started to reply when I beat him to it still keeping my expression bland. My voice practically a barely audible hiss. "Let. It. Go."

I could tell he didn't want to, but Danny nodded anyway. Seeing it, I nodded back heading over to the large bay window facing the street to wait for Marcus keeping my back to everyone in the room.

"Renée," he greeted once he joined me.

Sidestepping his attempt to touch me, I asked, "Why didn't you pick up the package I left for Sister Mary?"

"Ma chère?"

"I left a package at my apartment," I re explained while forcing my voice even. "It was for Sister Mary's orphanage. I told you this before I left. Why didn't you pick it up?"

"We had the Lucy Job," Marcus slowly said.

"We weren't supposed to do that until next week."

"An opportunity came up. We used it."

"I see."

People were starting to get mobile. Shuffling of bodies or clothes as they righted themselves. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Danny watching us before Sam walked up to him and started talking.

"Renée…"

I cut him off, keeping my eyes on the street. "I take it by the party last night, the job went well? There were no complications?"

"It went very well," Marcus said clearly not liking ignoring the elephant in the room. "Everything went exactly as planned."

A gaggle of giggles turned my attention to a side door that lead into the living room. The lead girl took one look at me and turned around heading back where she came from, whispering something I couldn't hear to those behind her.

I nodded, at least we had that. "You know Two Mauls is out?"

"Yeah. Got out a couple of days ago."

"It's going to be a problem."

"What do you suggest?"

"Cut and shuffle," I answered. "Send everyone to ground."

"That...will inconvenience a lot of people," Marcus hedged.

" _That_ is what the rainy day fund is for," I returned evenly.

Clinking of glasses broke the silence between us. Turning showed Danny standing at the kitchen island, six cups of...something in front of him as he explained to Sam something that had him nodding along. After a moment Danny started mixing things, still explaining while Sam watched with a look of disgusted fascination.

"Maybe. How long did you expect for us to be inactive?" Marcus asked bringing me back to business.

"Two weeks, maybe a month," I replied looking back outside. "Give the Protectorate a chance to catch him before he gets rolling. If they don't he should have calmed down by then or at least the balance in the city will even out. The others aren't going to be any happier he's back than we are."

Marcus sighed, "That's a long time for us to support people. It will be expensive."

"Going to jail is more cost intensive."

"True," Marcus said, but I could tell he didn't like my idea. His following words supported that. "I'll look into it. Talk to the others. We might be able to mitigate the risk without having to completely collapse everything for a month."

I bit my tongue to keep arguing. It wouldn't do any good. A barely stifled squeak behind me came from Marcus'...friend.

I turned just as she did and our eyes met. When they did hers widened. Where before she was frozen from whatever it was the Sam's girl said to her, right now she was shaking badly. Like a hare staring into the eyes of a wolf. Terrified to move, but desperate to be anywhere but right _there._

The room quieted. I could feel Marcus's eyes were steadily on me. Others darted between us confused at what was going on. Sam and Danny's shown with concern and not a small bit of worry.

As casually as I could, I slowly turned back to the window. Before I could think on it too much, I noticed Marcus about to put his hand on my shoulder.

"You really don't want to touch me right now, Marcus," I whispered flatly since there was far too much attention on us at the moment. "More importantly, _I_ don't want _you_ to touch me."

 _Or ever again_ , I thought but didn't voice.

"Alright," He said folding his arms across his chest. "But we should talk, no?"

Turning from the window, I faced him. "Don't worry Marcus, I'm not going to hurt your little strumpet."

"That's a little uncalled for, isn't it chérie?"

I nodded slowly. "You're probably right. _She_ didn't know better."

"I thought we agreed no personal attachments?"

"Do not get personally involved," I corrected flatly. "And we also agreed this wouldn't interfere in our work. But like I told you then, Marcus. I do not share and I most definitely will not accept second place. _To anyone._ "

"So...that's it?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Were you expecting something else?"

"Yes," He said seriously.

"Then I guess you really didn't know me as well as you thought you did."

"I supposed I didn't," Marcus muttered. "I should take care of that drop off then?"

"I already took care of it," I said. "But if you're looking for something to do, you might want to check on your friend. I think Sam's girl told her something she didn't like hearing. She looks a little...shook up."

"Mindy took her to the bathroom or something," Marcus said uncaringly. "So, who's the new face?"

"Talent from up north," I lied.

"Oh? What does he do?"

"Whatever I tell him to," I said.

"Ah," Marcus nodded slowly obviously understanding exactly what I meant.

"Well, I guess…"

"Goodbye, Marcus."

He blinked at my tone but nodded and left. Walking deeper into the house or something, I didn't turn around to check.

Dry swallowing, I kept my gaze on the street. I needed to get out of here.

"Hey," Sam whispered as he got next to me. "Renée, if I'd known…"

"You weren't supposed to, _mon cher,_ " I whispered back. "It would have caused...issues if it was known."

"If you say so. Still…"

"Let it go, Sam," I whispered back putting a bit of steel into my voice. "I really do not want to talk about this. Especially right now."

"Alright. Is there anything I can do?" He asked. "Anything. I'd do it, just say so."

I knew what he was really asking me. He wanted to know if I wanted either of them punished, or worse. But that was exactly the thing I didn't want. The divide in the ranks, this was the kind of thing that could ruin everything if not dealt with just right. And no matter how much I wanted differently, the Guild was more than just me. Others depended on us to keep to business.

Not that something like that would have stopped him from doing anything if I'd asked. Sam was a good friend like that and was always watching out for me. Had been since our shared time in the Street Rats.

I shook my head, "Nothing like that, but I do what you to keep an eye on Danny."

"New Guy?" Sam asked. "Where did you even find him?"

"Up north, why?" I asked turning to Sam.

"Just wondering," He answered. "He's not saying much, but wherever you found him they like to drink there. Man makes a foul hangover cure, but it works better than anything else I've ever had."

"Do we even stock things for that here?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Made it from shit lying around," Sam chuckled. "I asked him the same thing when he offered to make it. He said that every party house carried the same shit. Made a joke about how us kids think we invented everything. Then started mixing his brew."

Looking over to the man in question, I could see him handing out a couple of glasses. The people accepting them looked dubiously at the contents and it wasn't hard to tell who had already tired Danny's brew. They were smirking and waiting for the next sucker to ante up.

"Take care of him," I said. "And make sure he gets back to my apartment before it gets too late. We're supposed to have dinner with Penny tonight."

"Where you going?" At my look, Sam held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just asking _ma chère._ "

"Out," I answered as I headed for the door.

Stepping outside, I took a deep breath ruthlessly clenching my gut.

I wasn't going to cry.

Walking alone down the quiet city street I repeated it over and over in my head. Like a mantra to focus on. Thinking maybe, if I thought it enough times, I might actually start to believe it.

It didn't work, but then again, I really didn't expect it too. I was able to hold it in until I was around the corner and far out of sight before I felt the first tears spill. Quickly finding a place to hide was easy, and there I stayed for a long time.

I shook my head wiping my face. I knew what I was getting into with Marcus. I knew what kind of guy he was. I thought maybe...for me, he would have been different. We'd known each other for a long time. He'd always been a bit...well, free with his affections but… And then when I was around he was different.

Sighing I leaned against the wall of the half broken house I'd taken refuge in. Should have known better. I did know better but was it so wrong to have something like that of my own? Why was it every guy I might even be slightly interested in was either too freaked out or an asshole?

Then again, I didn't exactly have a good circle of acquaintances either. The pool of potentials was kinda slim, even without other issues that surrounded me.

The street lights outside lighting up told me it was getting late. I needed to get a grip on myself. If anyone saw me like this…

I shook my head. No, I wasn't that little girl anymore. Huddled in a corner of some powerless building. Cold, alone, hungry, weak. No, I beat the odds. I survived. I was better now. Things were better. I was Gambit now not the little orphan Renée. And Gambit didn't get her...

Shattering glass and tearing metal forced my attention down the street. Whatever it was, wasn't visible yet but I could hear distant shouting, curses, and other familiar noises that could only be one thing.

Cape fight.

"Why not?" I chuckled humorlessly, getting up I took to the street, heading toward all the noise. "It's not like anything else has gone right today."


	11. Road Trip: Chapter 5

**Road Trip: Chapter 5**

The fight became visible once I turned at the intersection.

A brutish figure charged through the empty street chasing someone dressed in blue spandex, boots, and a matching visor. A classical musical note adorned his chest in black, identifying him as Baritone of the Wards. Well, that explained the noise.

The figure chasing him, in contrast, didn't look like he dressed for a photo shoot though that didn't stop me from recognizing him either. Even without the look he used to employ before he was pinched, he was fairly obvious to place. Forearms as thick as his shins, arms as big as his thighs and Two Mauls ran on all fours like a gorilla trying to catch Baritone. Ripped and shredded shirt and jeans highlighting bulging muscles.

They must have been going at it a while. Looking at the damage in this area and further down the street confirmed my thoughts.

Wards never fought alone, or at least, they weren't supposed to. I didn't see the others at the moment though. Walking over to a light pole that the duo hadn't knocked down yet, I put my back to it, folded my arms and watched.

Snarling in frustration, Two Mauls continued trying to get his massive hands on the Ward. A feat that was proving devilishly tricky as Baritone had no intention of being caught. He stayed just out of reach moving chaotically around the street, seemingly intent on something. Maneuvering him just…

 _Ah_ , I nodded. The fire hydrant. That meant Guppy was around. The hydrokinetic wasn't any more useful than a normal without large quantities of water to exploit.

Taking the bait, Two Mauls swung and shattered the hydrant sending a towering spray of water skyward. Immediately a figure leaped from the adjacent rooftop into the spray but before he could bring his power to bear, Baritone made a mistake. He paused.

Grabbing the smaller Ward, Two Mauls slung Baritone around and beat him into the ground several times before throwing him away like child done with his least favorite toy. Guppy slammed a torrent of water into the hulking figure distracting him as his teammate ragdoll rolled toward me.

Wincing at the impact caving in the front of the car next to me, I said, "Bonjour, Baritone."

My greeting was met with a racking cough and a weak, "Great, can this get any worse?"

"Not having a good night either, eh _mon'ami_?" I chuckled bitterly.

Pulling himself from the car, Baritone barely glanced at me before running back into the fight.

Guppy kept the pressure on until Baritone arrived by leaping onto the villain's back, grabbing at Two Mauls' neck in an attempt to choke him out. A big mistake. Two Mauls seemed to agree with me as he showed Baritone why you didn't try to manhandle him. . He quickly dropped his weight and rotated his lower body to the side and then behind the legs of the waterborne ward. A forceful push and all leverage the ward might have had evaporated as he became suspended on Two Mauls hip. The following drop kick to the ribs looked painful.

Rather than closing the distance again, Guppy floated in his jet of water. It ran from the street flying upward, en-capsuling him until splitting at his sternum running over his shoulders and down his arms. Like two great watery whips that hung over his chest, the excess water flowing into the street beneath him. The streams crossed into a mighty V shape as they stretched the distance and attempted to bludgeon the brute like a fire hose on an unruly prisoner.

Throwing himself backwards, the savage cape slammed Baritone into the building. The whole street reverberated with the crunch of stone and shattering glass from the impact. Worse, it was enough to force the blue costumed teen to let go.

Again, Two Mauls spun quickly grabbing him and using him as a club. This time into the very building they just broke further demolishing the face of it. Tired of the new game, Baritone found himself flying toward me again. This time rolling to a stop in the street and sparing some civilian's car.

"This looks like it's going well, no?" I asked easily watching Guppy go back to hosing Two Mauls down.

"Fuck you, Gambit," Baritone cursed slowly getting his feet. "If you think you can do better, get in there."

"Hmm, tempting but no," I chuckled. "You are not my type, _chérie_. Besides, It is illegal for unregistered independent parahumans to engage in acts of willful violence that can, will, or could cause damage to persons and property without authorization from the Protectorate or PRT. You wouldn't be asking me to break the law now, would you?"

Still on one knee, Baritone turned his head to face me as if he couldn't believe what I'd just said. I smiled at his reaction, continuing. "Exceptions for such are, of course, in the defense of one's self from bodily harm, though without a representative of said organizations to vouch for you, that falls to a judge to decide. Unless you are _asking_ for my help and authorizing me to assist?"

Baritones mouth curled into a snarl as he ignored me; rushing back to help Guppy.

"Pity," I muttered to myself.

Noting the frustration writ all over the brute's face, I figured it wouldn't be long before Two Mauls decided to end this little dance. The Ward duo were good, but couldn't match the others savagery or willingness to cause damage. Hopefully the Protectorate showed to help them soon. Then again, who knew what else was going on in the city?

The next few moments passed in a flurry of punches, kicks, and water before Two Mauls decided he was done. An unbelievably fast backhand sent Baritone flying away once more. Surprised, Guppy didn't react before the larger cape leaped into his water spout. Thick arms wrapping around him and squeezing making him sputter and choke.

"L-lo-look!" Guppy wheezed out, eyes looking right at me. "G-Gam-bit…"

Slowly I raised an eyebrow. That was a new low, even for Guppy who loathed me.

Two Mauls spinning around proved that a cheap trick is oftentimes a sound investment when in a pinch. Or in Guppy's case, when being held by a brute of limited intelligence and far too much muscle. Fortunately for him, said brutes eyes locked on mine seeing it wasn't quite a trick. Lips pulling back in a snarl I had no trouble understanding.

"Bonjour, Two Mauls," I greeted knowing he would easily hear me. "It has been a while, no? How have you been _chérie?_ "

Cursing to himself, Baritone lept at him but like before was batted away without any effort. Unfortunately for Guppy, he was still being held when it happened. I lazily watched both heroes soar, disappearing into an alley.

Done with the two pests, the brute turned to me. Slamming his fists into the asphalt, Two Mauls roared a defining challenge, eyes burning in hated.

"Wash your mouth out with purple soap," I chided the villain. "Have some class, _mon cher_. You're making the rest of us look bad."

Ignoring my snark, the small mountain of muscle and hair ran straight for me. Leaning casually against the light pole, I waited patiently, feeling the surge of adrenaline start pumping through me. Two Mauls crossed about half the distance when movement behind him caught my attention.

Guppy, hand over his lime green costumed stomach, leaned against the alley wall. A dark satisfaction danced in his eyes.

 _Bibitte,_ I thought before focusing on the more immediate problem rushing toward me.

Keeping my relaxed posture, I waited until there was no way he could stop. Reaching above my head, grabbing the pole I flipped myself upward. My feet hit the pole just as Two Mauls crashed through the base, sheering free from the street. Kicking free I bounced off the building next to me. A half spin put me exactly where I wanted to be as I extended my body. The tip whistled through the air with just the right touch of my power and connected with the side of Two Mauls' head. It hit him just shy of the temple, snapping his head to the side before he realized I wasn't trampled under him.

The crack of my strike momentarily overrode the sound of the lamp post crashing to the ground. Two Mauls fell bonelessly to the ground.

For just a brief moment Marcus's face transposed over felled villain. I shook off the pleasurable chill that raced down my spine as I rose from my crouch.

"Today's not a good day to play with Gambit, Two Mauls," I cautioned casually. "But, if you simply must be dealt in, there is always an open seat at Gambit's table."

The only response to my remark was that of a weak groan from his prone body. I collapsed my staff and put it away inside my coat, before I turned to the two battered heroes. Both wore matching looks of disbelief on their faces.

It was always good to feel appreciated. Better when when they couldn't help it. "Well, that was stimulating, but I have other plans for the evening. I'll leave you gentlemen to your civil service."

Giving them a jaunty salute, I started walking away. I didn't get more than three steps before Baritone's voice stopped me, "You're going to have to come with us, Gambit."

"Oh," I asked keeping my back to them. "Did you also want a seat at Gambit's table?"

"If we have too," Baritone said evenly. "Director Simmons's orders."

"Really?" I paused and tapped my chin, taking the moment to look thoughtful. "I was unaware that I was wanted for any crimes."

Guppy's cough and stage whispered, "Bullshit."

After a moment where I could easily imagine Baritone glaring at his teammate, he said, "I was told that if we saw you, to bring you in. Something about Brockton Bay. People have questions."

"Alas," I sighed, turning around to face the duo. "I'm afraid I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request."

At the blank looks facing me, I slowly clarified making sure each word was clear, "Means 'no'."

"It wasn't a request," Guppy growled. "You don't _get_ to say no."

"Funny, the slumbering brute on the ground begs to differ," I chuckled. "And unless you have something concrete, other than a desire to ask questions, I have no obligation to do anything you ask."

"We have plenty, freak," Guppy shouted.

"Enough," Baritone barked at his teammate. Red faced, Guppy continued to stare hatefully at me while Baritone said, "Don't make this a thing, Gambit. Like you said, I can hold you for parahuman assault if I have to. At the least we'll have to wait for someone from the Protectorate to arrive."

"After that little show where Guppy practically pointed him at me?" I asked, out right laughing at the hero.

Warring conflict danced across his face before Baritone nodded decisively. "I didn't hear anything like that." His facial expression made things clear.

"Ah, I see." My smile melted with his words as I stage whispered, "Do I not have the right to defend myself against those who mean me harm?"

"Then you should have run before he saw you," Guppy snarled, clearly eager for the fight we all knew was coming. "So you coming peacefully or do I get to have some fun? Resisting arrest is a crime ya'know. Please tell me you're resisting..."

So was baiting, but we all knew who would lose _that_ argument. Narrowing my eyes at Guppy I nodded to myself. I supposed this fight was a long time coming. I'd avoided tangling with the Wards and Protectorate every chance I could; it was bad for business. But it looked like he was tired of waiting. Guppy wanted a fight, and now he had a reason to start one.

And I was under no illusions that once I was in custody, I wasn't getting out. They had too many questions and I had no willing answers. That alone was going to get me a cell indefinitely. Or at least until the Guild found a way to get me out.

And that was an horse of a completely different color. For several reasons, most I was only starting to suspect, but I know one thing as sure as I knew Guppy hated my existence as a crime against his beliefs, going with them willingly was not an option.

Well, alright then.

"Two on one?" I asked rolling my neck. "Not my style. Seriously."

As if sensing my choice, Guppy's eyes danced but Baritone's voice held steady, if with an undercurrent of caution. "Don't do this, Gambit."

"We both know who is doing what to whom, _mon cher,_ " I said flatly. "Don't pretend otherwise. It is uncouth."

"Look, we can just wait for…"

Tired of waiting, Guppy bolted for the still spraying fire hydrant. The twenty foot tower of water bowed, bending to his will the second his hand touched it. Instead of spraying upward, it coiled around him like some crazy snake before coming up behind him, over his shoulder, and flying right at me.

How fast was that going? There was a lot of pressure in one of those things, right? I mean, this was an old residential area, but that still put it pretty up there to fly upward twenty feet. And that didn't even include whatever Guppy's power was doing to it.

Baritone's held himself ready, obviously trying to anticipate which way I'd go. To the right, I thought, judging by how he was leading with his feet. It wasn't until the water had almost reached me, that I sighed and he realized I had no intention of dodging.

"No!"

This was going to hurt.

I amended that to 'hurt a lot' when the water spout actually hit me. It felt like getting hit by a truck. My feet left the ground but the only thing I was aware of was the insane pressure from Guppy's attack. It existed everywhere, all around me and the world air of gravity became mere afterthoughts. I was jerked to the right, hit something hard, downward and then lost all sense of direction until I smashed into something hard and strong enough to hold me against the pressure.

I felt something snap, other things creaked. My head hit something really hard before I was released and fell to the ground, once again subject to reality's laws.

I was still coughing water and seeing stars when something grabbed me; lifting me back into the air.

"No escaping this time, ma petite," a deep voice snarled in my face.

 _Fantastic,_ I thought bitterly struggling to breath. _Of course he chose now to wake up._

"Two Mauls," I wheezed. "How was your nap? Good, no?"

My head snapped back as he pulled, then slammed the fist holding me into the wall hard enough to shatter brick.

"You talk too much, little thief," the brute snarled. "I'm going to teach you to keep it closed."

"Ah, you do love me," I chuckled weakly. "The guys were wondering but I always knew it."

"You shouldn't have refused my offer," Two Mauls hissed. "No, you don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice," I said. My voice barely audible from the pressure of him squeezing me. "But that doesn't mean we have to like them, yes?"

I smirked through the pain blazing through me, despite the fact that he had me buried half in the wall with my arms pinned. Not understanding -but definitely not appreciating- my humor; he backhanded me with his massive fist.

Stars exploded behind my black eyes, the world spun sickeningly even though I knew he was holding me steady. Head slumped forward, I couldn't help but groan. Hair dangling in wet lanks covered my face while I took a moment to just _breath_.

Two Mauls' disturbing chuckle told me far more than I was comfortable with about how he felt about my condition. Pressing my palms against the wall he held me against, I let my power loose.

Lifting my head I tried to focus my eyes on his, once again letting my smirk form. A trickle of blood fell from my the left side of my mouth where he split my lip.

"You should have stayed down, _chérie,_ " I whispered. "This would have been much easier on both of us if you had."

The villains features shifted from confusion to horrified understanding about three seconds too late.

Again pain overtook all senses when the wall exploded with the force of a semi hitting it at full speed. Asphalt became concrete before the building across from where I was being held stopped my roll. Groaning I somehow found the strength to forced myself back to my feet and keep them.

Across the street Guppy was slumped unconscious or dead against a wall. I couldn't tell which at the moment. Baritone was literally tied up with a light pole. Apparently Two Mauls had gone for them first. Baritone's struggles against the twisted metal around him did nothing against his prison but making him look foolish.

Two Mauls knelt in the middle of the street not having been thrown nearly as far as I had. The hand that held me nothing more than twisted flesh and broken bones. The rest of him showing obvious signs of having been ground zero for a very bad event.

 _I should thank him properly for getting Guppy off me. It's only proper, after all._

I hobbled toward him, extending my staff. Two Mauls turned glazed eyes at my approach, as if he couldn't understand what was going on.

Swinging, I struck him in the side, catapulting his body across the street ending in the house. He crashed through like a wrecking ball and after a moment to consider its options, the roof fell over him.

Biting my tongue, I choked back my groan as my abused injuries let me know their state of dissatisfaction. Hopefully he got the message this time and stayed down.

Limping toward Baritone, I slowly took a knee next to him.

"You okay, Gambit?"

"Why? Gonna let Guppy attack me again if I say yes?" I scoffed weakly while searching his pockets. "Don't talk to me as if you care, hero. You never have before."

"I always cared," he replied weakly and not very convincingly to my ears.

"I am not one of your fan girls to fall for such...obvious," I grunted incompletely, shaking my head. "Ply your charms on the gullible, Baritone. Maybe one day someone will believe you."

"You know there isn't anything I can do when they give us orders. That's how things work." He argued but whatever fight he had seemed to be slowly going out of him.

"For heroes, maybe," I muttered. "The rules of how things work look very different from this side of the poverty line, Baritone."

Instead of answering, he deflated with a sigh. It was an old argument that we both knew neither of us would agree on. After a moment of silence I pulled his phone from where he stored it in his costume.

"Password?"

"Seriously?"

"Do you really expect me to use my own phone?" I asked sarcastically. "Assuming it still works after Guppy almost killed me."

My little reminder of his teammate finally killed his resistance. After getting the password, I dialed.

The voice that answered on the third ring was smooth with just the right touch of professional boredom. "PRT emergency response, how can I help you?"

"Two wards down on Baker Street just down from Twenty-third," I answered. "Baritone is tied up and I have no idea what's wrong with Guppy but he's not moving. I'd get here before Two Mauls wakes up and decides to eat them."

Placing the phone next to Baritone, I ignored the squeaking questions from the operator.

"You're just going to leave us like this?"

"And risk getting attacked again?" I scoffed. "I think I've given enough blood to you heroes today, Baritone."

"At least make sure Two Mauls is out!"

"Why should I?" I asked turning back around. "That's a hero's job. That's what _you're_ paid to do. Besides, if I was you, I would be worried if anyone saw that little stunt of Guppy's. Think what would happen if that became public? Wouldn't that be just... _tragic._ "

I started walking away, ignoring his frantic wiggling and the voice shouting through his phone. Stopping a few steps away smiling at the thought that ran through my head.

"Oh and Baritone?" I said sweetly keeping my back to him. "Do try to keep him locked up this time? Imagine the... _embarrassment_ if I had to pull a hat trick and was forced to capture him, _again_."

It took everything I had to calmly walk down the street. Couldn't show weakness. Not to them, not to the others. Half the game was decided in moments just like this. With these thoughts in my mind, I forced one step in front of the other. Concentrating on my breathing and forcing my pain laced body to move as smoothly as it could until I was around the corner and away from prying eyes. No idea how successful I was, but by the time I did get out of sight, I was done. Half collapsed against a wall all I could think about was that I just needed to get home without anyone seeing me like this. Too hurt to walk the whole way, I figured I could at least make it back to Sam. Hopefully, he would still be there and no one would ask any awkward questions.

On the bright side, the Two Mauls question was answered. Assuming the Protectorate managed to keep him this time.

Sighing painfully, I shook my head. One problem at a time.

In my agony, the only clear thought I had was that there was no way I was going to get through dinner with Danny and Penny without them knowing something happened. Even if I managed to get back without anyone seeing me. Which meant _questions_.

 _Then again,_ I thought to myself. _Penny's creoles and gumbo..._

Worth it.


	12. Road Trip: Chapter 6

**Road Trip: Chapter 6**

"Fucking Christ."

"You know, I think that's the first time anyone mistook me as being on that side of religion," I muttered trying to stay as still as possible to not further aggravate my injuries.

Shuffling sounds and quick steps approaching me as Sam's masculine voice said, "Man, you're a mess, _ma chère."_

"It's not that bad," I mumbled keeping my head down while concentrating on my breathing.

A hand brushed my hair away from my swelling face. He winced seeing the forming bruise that covered most of my left side. Tilted my head showed him my split lip. His concern shown in his eyes even as he whispered curses.

"I'm fine. Just needed to catch my breath."

"You would say that even if someone had ripped off your arm," Sam snorted; his gaze moving from the visible damage to my eyes. "What's wrong that I can't see?"

"I'm…" Sam's glare cut off my habitual response. Sighing I reluctantly answered, "I think Two Mauls might have broken one of my ribs. If only because I don't want to give the credit to Guppy."

"He's never liked you but he's never been out to get you like this," Sam muttered. "How the hell you stayed on your feet after Two Mauls grabbed you and that explosion, I don't know, but the noise it's going to create online will be insane."

"You saw the fight?"

"Some of it at the end," Sam answered. His concern warring with his amusement. "Got a text when it first started and another when you showed up. Got here as soon as I could but I was pretty far down the street by the time things were done. By then you were walking off into the sunset like a fucking boss."

Smiling weakly, I winked at Sam, "If they could only see me now, hmm?"

"No one would believe it," Sam answered with his own smirk. "Gambit doesn't get hurt because she doesn't mix with the riff raff. And don't think I'm not asking one of the guys to make a meme of you going all home run on our man Two Mauls. I want that shit as a background on my computer sayin, Bad Dog, No Biscuit."

Trying not to chuckle, I settled for slowly shaking my head. "So, what would you have done had I embarrassed myself by not having the situation in hand?"

"I was going to run him over with ma girls car," Sam said with a smirk. "Even if it didn't keep him down, figured it would buy you time to blow him up or something."

My short chuckle ended in a hiss of pain as it aggravated my injuries. After a moment to collect myself, I whispered, "Any civilians hurt? Anyone other than our people see what happened?" If the news was already out then I would have to be ready to react to public opinion, but if not...

"No hurt civies," Sam assured me as he assessed what I was sure was going to be a spectacular bruise covering most of the left side of my face. "Most went to ground when the party started. Two crazies getting vid. They didn't give us any problems when we asked them to delete it. People like us around here way more than they like the Protectorate. Everyone knows how bad the lower 9th is just like they know the Protectorate won't come here without a damn good reason. We're about it when it comes to help for a lot of people."

Internally I weighed my options. The PRT taking a temporary PR hit from the leak -while amusing and not just a bit vindictive- was essentially worthless to me. Having blackmail to potentially force their hand on an issue they might not normally intervene in however might be useful. The question was if it would be worth the cost to squelch. A gamble in either direction, but the opportunity was one I was loathe to waste.

My brain raced as I tried to think out various scenarios. The deciding factor was that while I had managed to avoid Guppy and Baritone this time, If I was brought in later, the threat of release could motivate the PRT to let me out of that questioning session in order to avoid the shit storm. At the very least it would make good evidence for a judge and poison a jury against a prosecutor.

After making a decision, I nodded feeling relieved. This would be one more card in my deck. "Let the guys holding footage know that once it's compiled by Roger I want it kept off the net but I want it."

"Seriously? Why?"

"Future concessions will be a far more satisfying revenge than giving the Wards a black eye we both know won't last more than a week. We can't fight a government PR machine from the streets. Not directly. But in the right circumstances they might be persuaded to look the other way."

"You're way too soft on them, Renée." Shaking his head Sam frowned. "That's probably why they feel like they can hassle you like this. They know you won't hurt them to back off."

"There is more than one way to bleed a threat," I said vaguely as I groaned feeling the strain of talking so much. "Penny's cooking tonight. Help me get home?"

All traces of amusement gone, Sam leaned close, bringing his arms around me lifting me up. "You must be hurt if you're asking. How you even made it this far… Sorry about this, _ma chère._ "

"It's okay," I grunted before the pain of being jostled had me clenching my teeth. "I would have made it all the way back if I hadn't stumbled. Landed wrong."

Walking to the door, Sam paused whispering, "Hey, we good?"

"Yeah," a vaguely familiar feminine voice answered. "How's Gambit? Is she...oh shit."

"She's fine, Katie" Sam grunted as he carried me. "Get the car door before someone see's."

It took the work of moments for Sam to ease me into the back of the unfamiliar car. Him apologizing every time my teeth ground against each other or when I hissed. The whole time his brunette girlfriend looked around with her hand in her purse.

She wasn't a regular, nor was she one of the ditz teen fans that thought hanging out with the Guild gave them some kind of street cred. Those empty headed morons flowed in and out of the group moving from one guy to the next. I kind of remembered seeing her once or twice and always with Sam, which was probably why I recognized her at all. From what I could see of her at the moment she looked nervous and very uncomfortable, but she clearly had spine.

"Sam," I called softly once both of them got seated in front. "Tell me about the Lucy Job."

"Right now?" He asked uncomfortably. "I mean, it can wait for a few days, no?"

I choked back a hiss as the car hit a pothole and, ignoring Katie's mumbled 'sorry', I said, "So things did not go so smooth. What happened?"

"Damn, girl. Do you ever think about anything but us and work?"

"If you don't start talking I'm going to explode your seat," I growled.

"Um," Katie squeaked. "Could you not do that please? This is my mom's car and she's already mad I had it this long. If I bring it a back smeared in chunky boyfriend, she's going to really pissed."

"I know a guy who could clean it after," I assured her, keeping my eyes on Sam. "Take him about ten minutes. He's expensive, but he's a professional. By the time he's done, it'll be as good as new."

"Oh, okay," Katie chirped happily. "Explode away."

"Ma chère?" Sam asked her looking horrified she was taking my side.

"What?" She said innocently. "I'm not crossing her when she's moody."

"But to throw me so quickly under the bus? Not even a little fight?"

Katie snorted at his whine, "Sorry boyfriend, but if there's a choice on which side to be on, I'm going to pick the side that doesn't end badly for _me_."

I instantly liked her. It wasn't anyone who could keep Sam on his toes. Hopefully, Sam wouldn't screw it up but my patience was waning the longer he delayed talking about the job. I started weighing the pro's and cons of giving Sam an ejection seat, and which way to shoot it unless he started talking.

"I'm hurt love, deeply," Sam said mockingly but not without his own amusement. "I thought we had something special."

"We do, unless you don't start talking," she smirked not buy his little act any more than I was. "Besides, I'm curious too. You looked really shook when we met up at The Rum House and I've never seen you order one of those Captain Ridiculous Rum de Dum Dum's. You didn't even share it, just killed it like it was water and that thing is served in a fucking fishbowl complete with a rubber ducky floating on top!"

"Oh. That actually kind of explains a few things. I remember getting there but stuff got kind of blurry by the time the tacos arrived. I wonder what happened to the duck..."

"I hid Pedro in my purse after you challenged him to a drinking contest, and then _lost_ ," Katie said shortly.

"Was that before or after the midget with a club punched Carlos in the balls?" Sam asked. "Or did I imagine that?"

"No you didn't, and yes Carlos really did ask her if she wanted to ride the 'big girls ride' and consequently yes, he deserved _every single bit_ of what she did to him," Katie huffed annoyed. "Now will you please stop avoiding the question before Gambit decides the inside of my mom's car needs a new paint job?"

"She's right. Also, _Ugh_ … knew there was a reason I avoid your parties. I'm so grossed out that it's actually overpowering the pain in my ribs. Stop dodging and talk rum boy."

Finally giving in, Sam started talking. Slow at first going over details I already knew since I planned most of them. Picking the crew, setting up, getting into place. It wasn't until he got to the insertion part of the job that I understood his reluctance.

Through it all, I didn't say anything. Even Katie had gone quiet but I could see little twitches in her face from where I was sitting. I just listened how the plan went from perfect, to fucked, and Marcus's solution to unfucking it.

Keeping my face bland, I turned to look out the window once Sam was done. The one incident aside, everything else worked to plan.

"That makes far more sense than it should," I casually said. Pieces of a puzzle I wasn't aware of till now falling into place. "How many people on the crew didn't have a problem with Marcus's solution?"

"Half maybe," Sam answered. "But the money was good, and I think that soothed a lot of people's nerves."

"Yeah, it would," I said. The more I thought about it the more things fit. Little things, recent things, and more than a few other odd bits over the last few months. Now that I was going over everything, it was obvious what was going on.

Now I just needed to figure out what I was going to do about it.

It was a very quiet car ride the rest of the way home. Before I knew it, Sam was half carrying me again but it wasn't until we arrived at my apartment that other things intruded on my thinking. As if sensing my dread, Sam chuckled as he unlocked my door.

Penny better have made bread pudding…

The door swung open. I grunted when I accidentally hit the door frame getting past it, and found myself facing the inquisitorial squad of doom.

The apartment was full of familiar and very welcome smells reminding me just how hungry I was. It also had -unfortunately- two very relieved and angry looking people inside it.

"Bonjour…"

"My God, what the hell happened to you!?" Danny shouted as he rushed from where he was sitting to me.

"I'll get the medkit," Penny sighed, walking toward my room. "Take her to her room, Sam, so I can see what I'm working with."

"Okay."

I gave Sam a wane smile when deposited me on the edge of my bed. By the time he was done, Penny was already back with her home made medkit, and Danny looked like he was one breath away from a stroke.

"Out," Penny commanded once she was next to me.

Before Danny could even open his mouth, she rounded on him, "No, out! If you want to see a naked girl, I'll hook you up later, but Renée doesn't give shows, so OUT!"

Sam put his hand on Danny's shoulder and that made him deflate. He did as he was instructed by the normally-bubbly blond but when I caught his concerned glance before the door closed, I knew he wouldn't keep quiet for long. Door closed and locked, Penny started unpacking things from her satchel.

"Penny, hand me my cards please?"

The blond eyed me a moment before nodding. Taking a folding table from against the wall, she set it in front of me with my deck of tarot cards. Then helped me out of my jacket.

While she was working on my armor, I shuffled the deck, eyes half closed from the pain of being moved around. By the time she had me stripped to the waist, I had laid my cards in a simple three card spread.

The Moon. The Tower. The Fool.

Not the most auspicious reading at first glance.

"You're going to be sore as hell tomorrow morning," Penny noted sourly as she examined my back. "What the hell got you?"

"Guppy and Two Mauls but if anyone asks, it was Two Mauls."

"Why am I not surprised you ran into him the same day you got back. And what did you do to piss off Guppy this time?"

"Same thing as always. I'm still alive," I answered absentmindedly; running my hand from the first card to the last, I hissed as she examined my ribs.

"I'm going to have to bind these," Penny sighed. "Danny said something about you guys going to see Bennie?"

I nodded, fingers tracing the edges of The Moon.

"Alright, I'll check on you before you leave. See how much you healed during the night."

"Thanks, Penny."

"No problem," she muttered. The sounds of cloth being unwound behind me let me know she was getting the bandages ready. "So, how's the future look?"

"Confusing."

"How so?"

"Lot's of change," I answered slowly. "Most of it not good. Loss. Betrayal. Hubris. Ruin. Uncertainty. Loss and…"

"And?"

Tracing the image of The Fool, I whispered, "Some kind of chance? No, too much chaos. Maybe... maybe a new..."

"A new, what?"

I didn't answer, half lost in thought.

The Moon for the past. The Tower for the present. The Fool for the future. A simple reading just to see if my thoughts were just me overthinking everything, or if there might have be something to them. Unlike before, I felt nothing for the first two, but the last one tingled the back of my mind for some reason. Strange, my readings had never done that before.

So vague. The Moon in front threw everything else into chaos but I felt nothing from it when my fingers traced the card. So, there was nothing there, or at least, there was nothing I could do about it now. Something easily supported by The Tower but what it meant I couldn't feel. Like The Moon, The Tower was equally empty when I touched it.

But not The Fool. There was something there, like the answer to a question I didn't remember asking. Or was it more than that? Maybe, but whatever it was stayed just out of reach as nebulous and unwritten as the future the card was placed to represent.

That I couldn't feel the past or present I understood. I was awash in events I couldn't alter. But the future… that was something I could navigate but the choices were grim, unless I took the one offered out. That was… concerning.

Sensing my mood, Penny didn't ask any more questions and finished treating me. Once I was wrapped, redressed and medicated she helped me into our living rooms sole recliner and there I stayed for the rest of the night once I gave Sam a grocery list of things I'd need for tomorrow. Even with the reading weighing on my mind, I trusted him to handle the things I wouldn't be able to do myself tonight.

What I wasn't sure I could handle, was Danny hovering.

The worry writ large on Danny's face, and I knew at that moment that I wouldn't be able to hide who he was – might be, dammit. Might be! – or why I'd brought him with me. Not from these two. Danny's concern went above and beyond what even the most loyal minion would ever show to a boss. Unfortunately, that was giving Sam and Penny the wrong impressions. Thankfully Sam left, but I could tell that he knew something was going on that I hadn't told him.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Fine," I grunted. Again. For the thousandth time. Penny's raised eyebrow spoke far more than words would have as she made plates from the kitchen.

Without Sam to help run interference, that left Penny. Which was just _great_ because she wasn't going to help _._ This was going to be awkward.

Sighing, Danny sat on the couch being very obvious about not looking directly at me. The few times he did, he winced or mumbled something under his breath angrily.

Thankfully, Penny arrived with food. I gratefully took the offered plate ignoring her glittering eyes instead keeping mine on my food and not looking up.

"So… You're Danny-from-up-north?"

"That or New Guy, which seems disturbingly popular," Danny chuckled weakly. "But I prefer Danny."

"Hmm," Penny mumbled. When she finished chewing, she asked, "Why did Renee _really_ bring you down here? You know, she normally recruits from the lower 9th, if she recruits at all."

I almost choked, but was half braced for it. Danny however, wasn't. He did choke. Ignoring his not so covert glances at me as I left him twisting in the wind, I ate my gumbo.

It was delicious.

"I… Well, that's… I'm a good henchman?"

I couldn't hold back a snort. He _was_ a good henchman but _such a bad_ liar.

"Is that a question?"

"No?" Danny half asked rubbing the back of his neck. "I was looking for a… change. Yeah. Figured I'd see what I could find down south."

I winced. If there was ever an indication we were not related, listening to him lie proved it. Oh look, Penny made oysters. Yum.

"Yeeeahhh… Bullshit."

I laughed and then winced as the laughter hurt my sides. Danny shot an angry but playful look at me as Penny continued, "I mean, you obviously care about her. Way more than is healthy for a guy your age."

"I hope you are not implying what I think you are implying," Danny said, his voice cold in a way that actually made me tense a little.

Penny didn't even seem to notice. "You didn't let me finish. Renée isn't an idiot and you'd be mincemeat if you tried something she didn't like. So that means she did like it, or it's something _else._ Since I know for a fact Renée's not into older men, that leaves something else."

Thinking back I reevaluated my thoughts on how worth it the food was. Undecided, I kept sampling. I'd make a decision after the pudding. I wasn't sure what was worse though. That Penny was openly talking about my...preferences, or Danny's reaction to said information. Both were disturbing but before I could say anything the promiscuous blond kept talking.

Danny turned to me asking, "Can we just tell her? She's jumping to _all_ the wrong conclusions and I want her to stop."

"No no, don't stop me now! I'm on a roll!" Penny said playfully.

Danny sighed indulgently, while I rolled my wrist in a "go on" sort of motion, and rolled my eyes too. She didn't need any encouraging, but Penny liked playing to a crowd and right now, she had a captive crowd of two.

"So worst case scenario you're _blackmailing her_ but that would probably be even _more_ stupid since the last guy who tried to do something like that, she left a quivering pile of meat in the street."

"She did what?" Danny asked looking confused on if he should be happy, or appalled as he turned to look at me.

"Two Mauls," I mumbled around my mouthful of creole. "The first time."

"Plus, she seems to trust you," Penny continued obviously enjoying herself. "Which _trust ME,_ says a lot about you. I can count on one hand the people Renée let's near her. Add all that to the fact that you two look pretty similar. That leaves only one possible explanation."

She nodded sagely as she closed her rant with a single, poignant question.

"You 'er Daddy?"

…

Danny stared at the girl for a solid three seconds. Then he turned to me, eyebrow raised but with a weird look of 'I told you so' writ on his face.

"Maybe," I shrugged as much as I could considering how much moving hurt. "That's why I'm taking Danny into the bayou tomorrow to talk to Bennie. He'll tell us for sure."

Ignoring Danny's frown at my reaction, and Penny's equal look of disbelief I returned my focus back on my plate.

"That's it!? This is so exciting! Shit, I mean. You might be the first Case 53 to actually find your family!"

"You don't know that, and we won't either until tomorrow," I muttered. "And I'm not a Case 53. No Tattoo. All the others had Tattoo's. Even Bogget."

"Really? That's all you've got? 'Maybe? We'll find out tomorrow?" Penny asked incredulously ignoring my other argument. We both knew that aside from that one thing, there wasn't anything else that separated me form the usual Case 53's except I was more human than those on public record. "Come _on! Renee!_ You… Wait so does that mean your name _isn't Renee?"_

I tried to smile but judging by the looks on their faces, didn't pull it off very well, "It's… yeah, maybe? I just don't want to bank on a bet that could go either way."

I glanced at Danny. Acting as exuberant as I felt at the thought that I might have a real _dad_ wouldn't look right. I didn't _get_ excited. I was Gambit. I knew how cruel the world was. Penny didn't need to know about the constant fluttering anxiety in my chest that had nothing to do with the bone fracture. I knew that in a lot of ways, there was going to be no good outcome from tomorrow.

But then… as I shrugged the possibility off with nonchalance, I realized my reaction was hurting Danny. It was _embarrassing_ to be so… happy. So hopeful. Didn't he understand that? Even if he was my father, couldn't he understand…

I squashed that thought, hard. Tomorrow; I would worry about if that was a thing or not tomorrow.

Thankfully, Danny smiled. As if completely understanding my conflict, reaffirming in my mind how lucky Taylor had been. Quietly reassuring. A rock, the likes of which I'd never known.

By contrast to Danny, Penny didn't _stop_ talking, continuously asking more and more questions about how awkward it was, how we'd met, how weird it must've been, what Danny thought of my eyes and a thousand other nonsensical queries that ran together. Thankfully many of them moved away from the prior topic and focused more on Danny. She asked him questions about Brockton Bay, what he did there, and more questions, examining his tone and his voice to find out more about his personality than any of his words actually gave.

I knew what she was doing. She was fishing for information. Not for her, but for me. Always thinking about me. Guarding me, like a best friend should. After a while, I lost track of what they were talking about while I dozed but it seemed that Penny was making up for lost time.

Tiredly, I sent a text message from one of my throw away burner phones, planning for tomorrow. A question, and instructions on how and when to reply which would be after I got back from seeing Bennie. I'd know more then and whether they answered would tell me if my half formed idea had merit. That done, I finally let myself relax and sink into the comfy chair. Just for a little while.

A stomach full of excellent food, painkillers, and Penny's and Danny's voices while I rested all mixed comfortably together and stole my consciousness before I could ask Penny if the pudding was ready.


	13. Road Trip: Chapter 7

**Road Trip: Chapter 7**

I came awake slowly, nestled in a hollow of blankets. Despite the lingering pain from yesterday, it was so comfortable here. Snug and warm in my bed.

Wait.

Forcing myself to move, I looked around seeing I was in fact in my bedroom. Before I could think on it however, my door opened and Penny's head peeked in.

"Good, you are awake," she said, walking in.

"Howserit?"

"Eloquent, Renée," Penny snickered.

Burying my head back under to blanket, I mumbled, "I hate you."

"Oh no you don't, I need to check your injuries. Up you get."

Groaning, I let her pull me from the cocoon of blankets and into the cool air. Thankfully my shiver only made my bones ache and not outright scream in agony. Seemingly satisfied with my compliance, Penny unwound the wrap around my body.

"Looks good. You're still going to be sore and probably a bit weaker than usual. No heavy lifting and use the skin cream I have in the bathroom for bruises. Yours faded some in the night but you still look like you got the crap kicked out of you."

"Alright," I agreed. "How did I get in here? Didn't I fall asleep in the chair?"

"You did, and Danny brought you in here. It was _soo_ sweet."

"Penny," I whined.

"What? I made sure he didn't try anything. And he didn't. He put you to bed and tucked you in." She replied innocently completely missing the point. "Danny was a complete gentleman. Even turned me down when I offered to let him sleep in my bed. Slept on the couch instead."

Sighing, I shook my head. She didn't miss anything, she just didn't care and had her own thoughts on things. Moving the topic along -and purposely not thinking of what Penny meant when she 'asked' Danny that- I asked her, "Has Sam showed up yet?"

Penny nodded, "Yeah, he's in the kitchen waiting on you stealing some of the boudin I cooked for you guys."

"Alright, let him know I'll talk to him once I get dressed."

"Sure, but remember, don't push yourself. I won't trust whatever knitting your body's done to you for at least another week."

"Alright."

"Seriously, Renée, no more fights for a while," Penny stressed.

Smiling, I nodded. "I'll try."

She rolled her eyes.

Getting dressed proved to be an effort, but didn't take as long as I feared. The welcoming smells of food greeted me as I left my bedroom. Danny was sprawled on the couch one our spare blankets half covering him. He couldn't be comfortable with his legs hanging off the side like that but he looked sound asleep.

Not sure why, I paused a moment to right the blanket over him. Other than a murmur and shifting he didn't seem to notice. By the time I walked into our kitchen Sam was making inroads into his second sausage while Penny playfully chided him from the stove where it looked like she was making coush coush.

"Morning," I greeted the duo, keeping my voice low enough to not wake Danny. He had a rough day yesterday. "Did you get everything, Sam?"

"Would I be here if I didn't?" he asked playfully.

"Depends on if you knew Penny was making breakfast or not," I answered honestly.

"True," Penny chuckled from the stove.

Chuckling, Sam nodded good naturedly. "That's a good point, but yeah, got everything you need. Your airboat is waiting for you at the same pier we always use. Mike's on this morning and he'll keep tabs on it until you get there. Make sure none of the supplies go missing."

I nodded chewing. Mike was a good guy. "I didn't know he worked there."

"Well, he got into a disagreement with his old boss about, dunno, couple of weeks ago? Month maybe?" Sam said uncertainly before shrugging. "Anyway, he needed work and wanted to stay legit since his girl's about ready to pop, if she hasn't already. He didn't say when I talked to him this morning. Well, we asked around and found out Roland was hiring. Mike likes it there and it's nice to have one of ours there for things like this."

Danny chose that moment to walk in, looking a bit rough from his stay on the couch. Snickering at the older man's gruff morning as he went in search of coffee, Sam made his exit citing he'd see us when we got back.

By the look in his eyes, I knew me specifically. I nodded back letting him know I got the message. Satisfied, Sam left. Danny took the open seat, unfocused eyes looking at his cup of coffee like it was his lifeline.

Breakfast moved along in a quiet chatter provided by Penny. Obviously trying to take advantage of Danny's partially awake state to continue grilling him for information. Being a good sport, Danny mostly went along with it but I stayed quiet.

Then we were leaving. Penny giving us a packed lunch and wishing us luck. Danny drove us to the pier with me giving directions since I was still a bit medicated. He didn't say anything about the cargo on the boat when he saw it. Just helped me climb into the pilot's seat and strapped the few things we brought with us down. He didn't look happy with me driving it, but airboats weren't for amateurs. It wasn't like a single prop in a rowboat.

The trip itself passed in a blur of never ending water soaked trees, winding waterways, gators, and Danny's reactions every time he saw one. I didn't point out to him that he only saw a quarter of the ones I did, and I knew for a fact, I didn't see anywhere near all the ones that were around. But that was the bayou for you.

Massive trees grew straight out of the water periodically. Each towering above us like sad sentinels. Limbs full of drooping green foliage gave way to grey the closer to the water they reached. The water itself thick as pea soup, and just as colorful in places. That boggy and stagnant stench of waste and green permeating the air seemingly making it as thick as the water below us despite our pace.

Interspaced around us passed small islands barely big enough to qualify as speed bumps. Some covered in great ferns while others only in moss. Adorned in a plethora of turtles, swarms of insects, and of course, more gators, which Danny seemed to not like at all.

Part of the reason why Bennie loved it out here. Most of the time, he didn't even need to do anything to those trying to find him. There were plenty of gators more than willing to eat the unwary.

Aside from the loud thunder from our propeller, the ride passed in silence. Danny either recognized I wasn't in the talking mood, or just didn't have anything to say. I figured the latter, but I didn't think on it much. Lost to my own thoughts.

It wasn't until the drooping limbs from two close trees moved that I returned to the hear and now. Watching them unwind I slowed bringing our boat around heading for it. Once on the other side, they moved back, blocking us in. That was fine, we were here.

Bennie's place was everything you could expect in a house located deep in the Louisiana bayou. The house itself appeared one hard wind away from falling over but that was deceiving. Grey brown planks holding up a wooden shingled roof. The land his house sat on didn't extend with the house standing on stilts to keep it out of high tide range. A rickety wooden dock reached out for us to tie off to.

Cutting the engine I instructed Danny how to tie us off, which I found I didn't need to. He listened with an amused look on his face before tying the rope off in a way that was better than I usually did.

While he was doing that, I slowly started climbing down from my seat. "When you see Bogget, don't stare. She doesn't like it when people stare."

"Alright…" Danny said, looking confused. That vanished once he helped me onto the pier.

Twisting vines made up the body lumbering toward us. Twice the width of any man I'd ever seen at the shoulder, she approached us humming a tune with her harsh gravelly voice. Standing easily seven and a half feet, Bogget was an imposing figure. Not even her floral print sundress that worked more like a skirt on her frame or her large plastic sunglasses could detract from it. Though it clearly made an impression on Danny.

"Hello, dearie," Bogget greeted happily.

"Bonjour, Bogget," I greeted back smiling. "Or have you finally decided on a real name?"

"I was thinking Jamie, but I don't think Bennie likes it."

"I think Jamie is nice enough, I'd have to agree with him that it doesn't suit you," I commented easily. "But I'm sure you'll find something that works for the both of you sooner or later. Lots of names out there to pick from."

"Hmm," she cheerfully hummed. "Yes well, oh. How sweet, you brought Bennie things. That was nice of you, hon."

"I hope I didn't forget anything but I had to have one of my people do the actual shopping. I was a bit indisposed."

Hunching over, the hulking figure eyed the side of my face, nodding slowly her voice changing slightly from its friendly tones to more of a growl. "It looks like you were in a fight, dearie."

I nodded, smiling at the fretting mass of swamp vegetation, "I doubt he will do it again, _ma chère._ "

"I hope so. Nice girls like you shouldn't have to put up with that kind of thing. I hope you made sure whoever it was learned not to hit you again."

"I'm sure he got the message," I answered trying my best to not give in to my giggle.

Danny's cough told me he caught the hidden meaning. Unfortunately for him, it also brought him to Bogget's attention. "Oh, who's this? Introduce us dear."

"Of course, sorry about that," I apologize. "Bogget, this is Danny. Danny, Bogget."

For his part, Danny's face was conflict in duality. As if he couldn't decide if he should be terrified of the monstrous thing before him was going to eat us, or amused at how her demeanor was so out of sorts compared to how she looked. In the end though, Danny once again proved himself to be made of stern stuff as he extended his hand toward the inhuman cape.

"Nice to meet you, Bogget."

"So polite," she muttered. "Nice to meet you as well, Danny. It's always nice to meet one of Renée's friends."

Smiling at how well he was handling her, I asked, "We're here to see Bennie. Is he in?"

"Hmm? Yes he is, honey. Back of the house on the porch, I think. Why don't you say hi while I unload these?"

"If you're sure? We don't mind helping." I tried offering.

"No, dear, you go ahead and see Bennie. I'll take care of this."

"Alright, thank you."

Once we were a bit away, Danny turned to me, "I see why you warned me. She is a very...imposing figure."

"Yeah she is," I agreed. "But she's so sweet most of the time. Because of how she looks, most people wouldn't give her a chance to talk, much less try to get to know her."

"How long has she been, like that?"

"Not even she really knows," I answered. At Danny's confused look I explained. "She's a Case 53. Not sure how much you've read up on capes, but Case 53's are the classification of monstrous capes. Parahumans whose powers changed them in strange ways."

"Like you."

"Yes, and no. There is a common thread between all Case 53's that are similar to me. Physical changes, almost all to inhuman levels are common. No memory of anything before they woke up, and usually it's somewhere off the beaten path in a big city. Bogget for example appeared in New Orleans about eight years ago."

"Sounds exactly like you. You said you appeared here, or rather in New Orleans two years ago."

"Yeah, but there is one big difference," I continued. "Case 53's all have the same tattoo on them somewhere. A kind of weird stylized slightly sideways U or Omega symbol. I don't have anything like that on me. I know, I checked when I found out about them. Thoroughly."

"That is...very strange." Danny muttered. "And very unsettling. How did you learn about this?"

"Public records mostly and the internet. Case 53's don't make up for much of the parahuman populace, but they're far more noticeable for being so inhuman looking. It wasn't hard to find information."

Bogget lifting a huge crate and easily balancing it on one corded shoulder made me add, "Which is just sad because people like Bogget are nicer than anyone you'll pass on most streets anywhere in the world. Sure, she can hurt you badly if she wanted. So can practically every cape out there. Plus you don't need to be a parahuman to be able to hurt someone. People have been hurting people since long before parahumans were even a thing."

Shrugging, I turned toward the house but not inside. Instead I walked along the outer porch which surrounded it eventually carrying me to the back. There, we found Bennie.

Standing next to a large A frame hung three big gators suspended by their tails in the process of being harvested. All three missing hides and split down the middle. On the other side, a smoker chugging away and obviously where the missing meat from the corpse went. Bennie himself stood facing the bayou gator hides stretched out on racks. A huge knife in his hands.

He was maybe five foot and built like a brick. Shirtless today showing his -boarding on dark- dusky skin. Beneath a mop of greasy looking hair, hard intelligent eyes watched closely as we approached.

"Renée," he grunted harshly.

"Bennie," I returned.

"You want something."

Nodding I informed him, "I brought supplies."

"Of course you did," Bennie snarled sourly. "Unlike half the fucks who come see me, you know better than to show up empty handed or bring that green toilet paper they call _money_."

"People are still doing that?" I winced.

Bennie grunted affirmatively. "Haven't seen you in a while. What did you bring me?"

"Flour, lard, rice, beans, lamp oil, and a few odds and ends you haven't asked for in a while but I thought you might be running low on or broke."

"You want something big then," Bennie muttered, eyes tracking to Danny. "I don't know him."

"This is Danny," I introduced.

"I don't like him."

"You don't like anyone," I said dryly.

"He looks shifty," he retorted completely ignoring me.

"Says the man hiding in the bayou."

"I like the company out here," Bennie grinned. Which was all kinds of disturbing even before he continued. "Gators are more honest than people and no one complains when I eat them."

Chuckling I shook my head at the cankerous man's antics.

"Well," Bennie half growled, "Spit it out. What do you want?"

Taking a deep breath, I took a moment. Even as I slowly let it out, Bennie's eyebrow rose and his eyes glittered knowingly.

"I-we, need to know if we're related. If...if he's my father."

Spitting on the deck, Been wiped his bearded mouth with the back of his hand, "You want a reading."

"Yes."

"I can't read you. You know this."

"I know, but I don't need you in my head," I answered.

Nodding half to himself, Bennie growled, "The blood will tell."

Despite Danny's silence neither of us forgot about him. So when he jumped at Bogget's unexpected entrance by climbing over the netted porch railing, neither of us looked. Well, not at Danny anyway.

Bogget was a different story.

"Everything is put away, Bennie," she said in her gravelly voice.

"What the fuck is on your head?" Bennie growled.

"Isn't it lovely?" The hulking woman preened proudly showing off her new straw hat, complete with a huge artificial lily sewn into the side. "Renée brought it for me."

"It looks hideous."

"You're such a sweet talker," Bogget said softly. Well, softly for her. "I like it too."

Sighing, Bennie shook his head giving me the stink eye. "I told you not to encourage her."

Trying to keep a straight face I said, "I think it's very pretty and it suits her."

And the fact that it annoyed the hell out of Bennie, was just a bonus. I really needed to ask Sam where he found it. There was no way even a tourist would buy something like that, so I doubted he got it from any of the stores he acquired the supplies for my run. It was just the kind of thing Bogget loved.

Grunting sourly, Bennie waved us over to a table not currently cluttered with his tools or bits of gator.

Handing me a knife that at least looked clean, he grunted again, tapping the table on one side. Nodding, I sliced my palm deep enough to allow a trickle of blood flow where he indicated.

Next to me, Danny grunted but didn't say anything. After wiping the blade clean with my shirt, I handed it to Danny. His expression clearly reluctant as copied my action letting his own blood drip on the other side. When he finished, I handed him my handkerchief.

Bennie first touched mine, smearing it over the table with his eyes half closed. A moment later his other hand reached out and worked Danny's similarly. For several moments he just mumbled to himself.

I'd seen him do this before and had an idea it was a quirk of his power. Sometimes the information overwhelmed him and Bogget had to grab and hold him until he calmed down. Sometimes he didn't get much and just cursed. At the moment, I wasn't sure which side he was swinging toward, but Bogget watched carefully the whole time as Danny and I waited for the verdict.

"The blood always knows," he muttered. "Never lies, never cheats, never hates. In the blood you can take a measure of a man's true heart. The stuff that even he doesn't know about himself."

Bennie's hands topped tracing odd patterns with our blood on the old wooden table slats. His eyes opening fully again as he raised his head to us. Unlike how he spoke before, his words were less harsh, and more soft.

"There is a lot of this man in you," he whispered.

Keeping my features schooled and my gut clenched hard, I nodded forcing myself to flatly say, "That was what I needed to know."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Leaning against the short rooftop wall of my apartment building, I held the silver flute to my lips, letting the soft almost melancholy melody free to explore the night for me.

Usually I'd prefer something more upbeat. A tune you can dance too like any of the numberless people in the city who perform most nights for tips or just for the love of it. Sometimes for the jingle jangle of change being tossed into an empty instrument case or hat. Sometimes just to see appreciative strangers dancing in the streets, moved by their music and the natural care free festive atmosphere my city was known for.

But not tonight. Tonight my thoughts were more...weighty. Heavier with what I now knew. With the things I suspected and the choices laid out before me. I'd been here almost since we got back from the bayou. Playing, and thinking.

It was a long and very silent ride back. Unlike the silence of our first trip, this one was heavy. I know Danny wanted to talk, but I didn't. He didn't question it, seemed to understand and gave me the space I wanted without asking. But that didn't change the fact that a talk was coming.

Fingers slid easily along the keys as I willed. Truth be told, I wasn't very good. At least I didn't think so no matter what Penny said. I definitely wasn't good enough to play with the musicians who worked the streets. But there was something about this I enjoyed. It brought a sense of peace or clarity to my mind which was something I desperately needed right now.

I didn't need to open my eyes to know I had an audience but that didn't stop me immediately. I had a fair idea who it was. It was actually surprising, but in a good way, that he waited as long as he did before seeking me out. When I did open my eyes as I let the last note slowly float away, I saw I was right. Danny Hebert stood a few feet away, staring at me with a strange look in his eyes.

"You...play the flute?" he asked in a strange almost halting way.

"Yeah."

"Where did you learn? If you don't mind me asking."

"I've always known," I replied slowly; shrugging. "Found out one day when casing a music shop for a client. They had one there and the guy let me play it when I asked."

"Oh," Danny muttered. "That really shouldn't surprise me but it does. You're pretty good."

"No need to lie, _mon'ami_. I'm fair but I don't practice enough to be called good."

Clearly disagreeing with me, Danny shook his head. I bit my lip, keeping my eyes on the skyline instead of him. After a moment of silence, his footsteps brought him closer and back into my peripheral vision.

Leaning against the short roof top wall Danny asked, "Do you feel like talking yet?"

"It's not something we can ignore," I sighed.

"Is that what you want?" he asked neutrally. "To ignore what Bennie confirmed for us?"

"I didn't say that, Danny," I answered tiredly. "But you can't just expect things to radically change just because of what he said."

"You are a very independent young woman," Danny said still keeping his eyes outward. "I respect that. And I'm not asking for you to be anything else."

"I think," I slowly said. "We need to have an understanding about some things before we get too far into this conversation, Danny."

"Alright. What is it that you think I need to understand?"

"I know what Bennie said, and there is enough...strangeness that I can believe it. I was half convinced even before we went to him. That and it doesn't hurt that Bennie's never wrong," I said half heartedly. "But, just because I am physically your daughter, doesn't make me your Taylor."

Turning to fully face me, Danny folded his arms giving me his full attention. I was thankful, as this wasn't easy for me to say but it was something that had been weighing on my mind ever since Bennie confirmed what Danny already knew, and I was strongly suspecting.

"This isn't easy for me, Danny. To know that I exist as I do, when I wasn't supposed to. We don't know how I got here, what happened to me, and we're probably never going to find out. But the thing I do know is that whatever there was in me that used to be Taylor, died in 09'. The day Renée was born."

"What…"

"Taylor was a happy girl from a loving home. A mother and father. Friends, family, school and all that," I interrupted him. "She was a normal girl. Renée was born to a life on the streets. She was alone and had to fight for every scrap of bread she got. What friends she made, she had to help them survive if she wanted to keep them. I've never known anything else but this life. My life started the day Taylor Hebert died."

Danny laughed sadly. "Every _minute_ I see more and more of her in you. You don't remember who you were before, but that doesn't change who you are. It _didn't_ change who you are."

"That is what it feels like to _me_ , Danny," I stressed. "I don't remember what you do. Do you even understand how that makes me feel? _Can_ you?"

After a long moment of silence, Danny shook his head sadly. "No, I can honestly say I can't imagine what that would feel like."

"It's not pleasant," I said, turning away. "Ever since I woke up, all I had was my mind and power. Jess figured my trigger probably wiped my memories because I was too young to deal with whatever it was that caused it. Maybe they're right, but I don't know. What I do know about my power is that I could -with the right preparations- be one of the most dangerous capes in the game. And when I realized just how dangerous I was, it scared the hell out of me."

Danny remained quiet as I continued, "I swore to myself then that I would always keep it in check. I built a code for myself, an image, and held myself to those things rigidly because I was a child who could turn playing cards into _grenades._ Can you imagine what I could do to a car? Or a _building?_ "

Danny shook his head. If there was any indication that he was shocked or frightened by the scope of my power, he didn't show it.

"But I needed this edge," I continued not letting him answer one way or another. "It was the only thing that separated me from everyone else. It was how I was going to survive, and how I was going to keep my friends alive. So, I vowed, no hurting people more than I had to and definitely no killing. Educated myself to where the lines were, what I could cross and what I shouldn't."

"Exactly what Taylor would've done. I guarantee it. You can't take responsibility for what was done to you," Danny whispered. "And no matter what you think, you are my daughter, and nothing is going to change that."

"But that, doesn't make me Taylor," I whispered back. "It doesn't change the fact I exist in her place."

"What exactly are you saying, Renée?"

"I can't give you back your daughter, Taylor," I answered. "But, maybe, if you had a spot in your life for her estranged sister Renée, I think... I think I could handle that."

Danny's eyes were wet. His smile could have lit bonfires. "As long as you don't mind me occasionally slipping up and confusing you with your twin. I'm old y'know. Memory's not what it used to be."

I smiled softly, very much in uncharted waters but feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. Before either of us could bring ourselves to say something and break the moment, a new voice did.

"Oh, bad time?" Sam asked standing by the door to the steps.

"Um," I hesitated before turning to Danny. I really did need to talk to Sam. "Danny, if I could…?"

He seemed to understand and nodded easily. "Of course."

Looking more uncertain than I'd ever seen him, Sam stepped aside and let Danny pass walking toward me.

"Sit down, Sam," I said quietly.

I told him everything. The Job, Jess's stunt which led me to trying to figure out who Danny was. The feelings Brockton Bay gave me. Everything that led to me coming back to New Orleans with Danny in tow. Bennie. Everything.

Through it all Sam listened. Quietly, never interrupting, seemingly unable to even if he wanted. Now and then, he'd curse in surprise, but otherwise was very attentive as I explained everything. It took longer than I thought it would. By the time I was done, the night around us had deepened to the point it felt like we were the only people awake in the city.

" _Mon Dieu_ , now that is a fucking story," Sam cursed. "Of all the shit I thought was going on, I did not see _that_ as being a thing."

"Right?" I asked hoarsely. Like Sam, I was looking out into the city skyline. Helping the moon keep watch over everyone.

"Can-can I ask something, Renée?"

"You know you can."

"What...what is it like?" he asked after several moments where I wasn't sure if he would.

At my raised eyebrow, Sam clarified. His voice held a soft almost innocent tone I'd never heard come from him before, "What's it like to have a papa like that? A papa that never gave up looking for you. Who loves you so much, that he never thought he wouldn't find you even years later. Wh-who wants you in his life even knowing what he knows about us. What, what is that like?"

Swallowing dryly at his questions, I whispered honestly, "Humbling."

"Yeah," Sam breathed, nodding. "I bet scary too, no?"

Unable to answer, I nodded.

"I never met me papa," Sam confessed. "He could be anyone in the city, or hell, the world. Mamam doesn't remember who she slept with last night, much less who she slept with twenty years ago. You're so lucky, Renée."

Again, I nodded. I was lucky. This wasn't something that happened to people like us.

"You're going with him? Back to Brockton Bay?"

"Once I take care of a few things, yeah."

"Good," Sam said unknowingly repeating what I was just thinking. "People like us, Renée, this kind of thing never happens to people like us. I'd be angry with you if you didn't grab this and make it your own. Life isn't always so...generous."

"I know," I agreed. "Thanks for being so understanding, Sam. I know this is a horrible time for something like this to be a thing…"

"Hey," Sam chuckled, putting his arm around me. "What are big brothers for, eh?"

"You'll take care of Penny for me? Make sure Amos leaves her alone?"

"You don't even need to ask, _ma chère_. Everyone loves Penny, we'll take care of her."

Letting my head rest on my first friends shoulder, I chuckled appreciatively before sighing, "But even still, I just can't drop everything and leave on a moment's notice. Especially not with...current events."

"You mean Marcus making his play," Sam said knowingly.

Raising my eyebrow, I asked, "You know?"

"People are talking. The guys from the last job, they talk. The people they talked to, talk. Word's getting around. Some of us see the way the wind is blowing. Also, Marcus is being more vocal. Saying stuff about you. Nothing out right bad, just stuff to make people think. You know how slick he can be."

"Yeah," I grimaced, rechecking my phone. Rereading the text message I received earlier. "I do. But I still have a dog in this fight. One last card to play and Gambit doesn't leave until all cards are played."

"Hit me with it."

"It's complicated, and not something you can really help with except by going to ground. Tell the people who don't like the new direction to do the same. At least for a month to give the coming storm a chance to blow over."

"Your dog sounds like she's going to be a big bitch," Sam smirked.

"It's not the size of the bitch in the fight. It's the size of the fight in the bitch," I smirked back. "And _mon cher_ , this bitch isn't happy."


	14. Interlude: Messenger

**Interlude: Messenger**

The plaque on the desk and door proclaimed this office was the office of Director Simmons. Director of the New Orleans Parahuman Response Team. What it should have read was 'Parahuman Babysitter Simmons'. That, at least, would have been a far more accurate description of what his job actually seemed to entail lately.

They didn't pay him enough for days like today.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he asked the sole other occupant of the room, "Let me see if I have this straight."

Drummer flinched at his forced monotone.

"While on patrol in the lower 9th Ward, which I'll get back to shortly, Baritone and Guppy positively identified the villain known as Two Mauls walking alone down the street."

"Yes sir."

"They called it into Console."

"Yes sir."

"Console ordered them to follow at a distance but to _not_ confront as all Protectorate assets were currently busy dealing with Bayou Amos and his fight with The Kree?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright," Simmons grunted. "Here is where I find myself curious because what Console ordered, isn't what happened. Is it?"

"No sir."

"So explain to me," Simmons growled making Drummer flinch, "how our two underage Wards ended up in a fight with a murderous villain like Two Mauls?"

Licking his lips, Drummer reported, "According to Baritone, Two Mauls spotted them following him, and attacked first."

"I see."

That was complete garbage of course. Two Mauls had enhanced hearing so it was plausible, but everyone had been briefed on his abilities the day he escaped. Baritone wasn't stupid. Just the opposite. A good kid who despite a rough start, was doing well for himself in the program.

Simmons didn't want these kids trained for this kind of thing, but the agency gave the option to those who wanted it so he didn't have a choice. Baritone was one of those who wanted it and studied hard. If he wasn't a parahuman, in a few years, he could have made some police chief's day when he applied for the academy. He tried hard, followed rules, was fiercely protective of his teammates and genuinely seemed to care about helping people.

But despite everything, Baritone was still a kid, and definitely not seasoned law enforcement despite the powers given to them to act in that stead. It was obvious to the Director after looking over the report that what was written, while factual, wasn't nearly all that went on, nor was it the hard truth of what did happen. And this didn't even include Guppy's statement.

And that was a completely different sack of shit Simmons wasn't even remotely interested in opening right now.

"Alright, so let's assume that story is going to wash for the moment," Simmons said, flipping through the report. It probably would, but not because it was the truth. Just because it was believable and there was a lack of evidence to the contrary.

Plus, image. Something that was far more important to the capes on the roster, than it was to him. If Simmons had his way, they would wear every black eye proudly. He found lessons paid for often lasted longer with less negative consequence. But, not everyone saw it his way.

Sighing, Simmons continued, leaving his thoughts unvoiced. "The fight lasted for a long time, according to the various calls into the emergency hotline. Baritone can take that kind of abuse and apparently Guppy hid, or kept his distance up until the hydrant supplied what he needed to help. Despite how outclassed they were, reports suggest they held their own. That was, according to Baritones report, until Gambit arrived. The fight ended fairly quickly once Two Mauls spotted Gambit. He attacked her and she knocked him out. That should have ended the fight that wasn't supposed to happen in the first place in the area they were not supposed to be in. Am I wrong in this assessment?"

Drummer remained quiet. Simmons wasn't surprised.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Simmons said flatly. "So before we continue, explain to me why two of my Wards were in the lower 9th in the first place. I don't remember any of them being rated for that patrol path."

"It was daytime," Drummer supplied. "And the deviation was authorized after a tip was called in. Just for reconnaissance and only to verify the information."

Simmons sighed again. He was doing that a lot today. This was all starting to look like a whole slew of unfortunate events dogpiling one on the other. Just one bad mistake after another.

"I see," the Director mumbled. And he did, but he wasn't going to voice it. However, this wasn't the first time he'd seen this odd pattern of events. Which could only mean one thing, and that was very disturbing considering her recent break in pattern. Still, worry wasn't proof. Not that they'd get any if she really was involved more than the events witnessed.

"Before we get to the part where our Wards failed to secure Two Mauls and therefore allowed him to beat them both severely, tell me about Guppy's injuries. What did medical say was the final list?" Simmons asked ignoring his inner thoughts.

A few more questions and answers, and Simmons dismissed Drummer.

Sighing at the time, he opened his desk drawer. Taking the bottle and small glass inside, he poured a shot of his favorite bourbon. Letting the smooth yet harsh liquid ease the aches in his muscles while calming his nerves.

"Sir?" Candice's voice rang through the intercom on his desk. "I have a Rebecca Mills on the line from the Youth Guard. She's very...adamant about talking to you."

"Send my shock troopers to kill her," Simmons half joked tiredly.

His secretary's chuckle preceded her wry, "Sorry sir, you know they took away your shock troopers after the last time."

"See, this is why I can't ever get anything done around here," he sighed. "In that case tell Ms. Mills that I have left the office and will return her call tomorrow. If she persists or asked about the debacle that happened earlier today, tell her that our official stance is, the issue is under investigation. When we know more, she will."

"Very good Director," Candice chuckled.

"Also, send a message down the chain for Baritone that I want to speak with him first thing tomorrow."

"It's a school day, Director."

"Yes I'm aware," Simmons smirked. "And he'll sit all day in his classes sweating out why I want to see him and wondering what I know that he doesn't. Which is the least he owes me for this mess of his. I would ask the same of Guppy, but medical thinks he's going to be their guest for at least two weeks."

"That is evil, sir," Candice snickered. "I'll make sure the message is relayed."

"And tell someone in Washington I want my shock troopers back. It's very hard to be an evil tyrant masquerading as a public servant without my shock troopers!"

She snorted, "I'll get right on that sir."

Once the line disconnected, he poured himself a second shot. Simmons took his time sipping as he thought.

Even without her sudden appearance and dramatic ending of the fight, both times, he knew, somehow, Gambit and her little club of 'misunderstood citizens' were somehow involved in this mess. This kind of thing was exactly how she operated.

Closing the folder, he stood, grabbed his jacket and hat to leave. Then his phone chimed.

' _When I sit at a table, I like to know the game being played. If you do as well, message back yes exactly at 4:24pm tomorrow.'_

"What the hell is your game this time?" Director Simmons asked himself.

That was a question that bothered him all night and bled into the next day. Against his better judgment, he replied as instructed receiving only a single word in return. 'Understood'. That was it.

Sitting in the spacious office at home later that night, Simmons contemplated everything that had, and had not, happened in the last few days. Right up until a soft knock behind him broke him from his inner thoughts.

He wasn't even surprised by who it was.

"I would ask how you broke into my house," he groused. "But I don't think you'd tell me."

"You have three holes in your camera footage," the delicate voice surprisingly answered. "And your alarm system is mostly commercial."

"Why does it sound like this isn't the first time you've done this?"

"It's not, but only once before. Just to see if I could. I like the addition of the laser grid. I almost missed it."

Simmons sighed, turning away from the window to his uninvited guest. Gambit stood framed in the light coming from the hallway. Dressed in her usual body armor with the addition of a trench coat. Something she picked up during her visit to Brockton Bay, according to informants.

But it was her eyes that completely stole his attention. Oh, he'd seen the pictures, and the few videos they could get, but that didn't quite have the same impact as looking into those black pits. And that was what they looked like to him, pitch black pits where her eyes should have been. Each with a ring of slightly glowing blood red hovering within.

Forcing the chill racing down his spine to not show, he casually asked, "What makes you think I won't activate the alarms from in here?"

She didn't answer, just stared steadily at him with those hellish eyes.

"You already disabled them..." he sighed. "Of course you did."

"You can turn them back on after I leave," she offered magnanimously.

"Not the point, Gambit."

"It was kind of mine."

Simmons waved the intruder over to an empty chair across from him. Once she took it he asked, "I assume this unorthodox meeting has a purpose behind it?"

"Baritone said you wanted to ask me some questions," Gambit stated. "He and Guppy seemed very adamant on bringing me in so you could. I was curious about why?"

"There was a misunderstanding in how that was phrased," Simmons sighed, rubbing his nose. "Wards were told to contact Console if you were spotted and we would send a Protectorate asset to talk with you."

"That is not what it sounded like from your agents," she said calmly. "They specifically mentioned my visit to Brockton Bay. I wasn't aware I was under surveillance."

"You're not," he answered. At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged. "Drummer got a call from there asking about you. Something about you thumping some normals protecting a girl scout?"

"I like girl scouts. They make the best cookies."

Mouth twitching despite himself, Simmons nodded. "I've talked with both of them about the incident. They were just very...enthusiastic considering most of the Protectorate was busy with Bayou Amos and The Kree tearing up other parts of my city. Probably amped from fighting Two Mauls. Even you have to admit, he is a...concerning opponent. They took an initiative they shouldn't have."

"That's a very nice and political way of saying that because they think I'm a villain that I don't have any rights."

"As I said there was a misunderstanding in the phrasing of their instructions," he repeated.

Gambit nodded, eyes still fixed hard on him. "And yet, that doesn't make me wrong."

Simmons sighed but didn't comment. She wasn't wrong, but that was a problem to settle in house and regardless of her status, she was an outsider. Besides, technically, they were on opposite sides.

"Do you think I"m a villain, Director?" Gambit asked after several moments of silence.

"I think you are a very troubled young woman who needs a psychologist in the worst way."

"Oh?" Gambit smiled.

"In the last two years I've watched you move through my city, I've seen evidence of a personality type that is narcissistic, kleptomaniacal, pathological, adrenaline-addicted, anti-authority, and given to reckless suicidal tendencies. No offense to you, Gambit. But a self styled hero that moonlights as a thief? You have serious issues."

"Who's moonlighting?" Gambit asked smirking.

"I noticed you didn't deny anything else."

"I wouldn't presume to counter the effort you're people put into my psych profile," she replied smoothly. "Although I have never been so presumptuous to call myself a hero. Just not a villain."

Nodding to the last point, Simmons pointed out, "But the people you help _do_ call you a hero. Trust me, that is something that has caused a great deal of concern for us considering what we suspect you get up to when no one's looking."

"Not because I ask them to," she countered, not bothering to address the second bit. "I help them because they are good people in a bad way. What they call me for doing that isn't a factor. I know what I am."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"I am Gambit," the cape smirked. "But all this isn't why I asked to see you tonight."

"A question I would like to know myself."

"I heard there was an incident a few days ago. Burglary and two fatalities," Gambit stated emotionlessly. All traces of her earlier amusement gone. "People seem to think there is a connection between it and other...similar mysteries that have taken place in the last few years."

Nodding slowly, Simmons waited keeping his eyes on the cape across from him.

"Now, hypothetically speaking of course, if prior mysteries had a hidden hand, or hands, it might be an affront to their sensibilities that such a link existed."

Simmons nodded finally understanding exactly what was going on. "That would slightly reassure certain people. Doesn't do anything for the dead, however."

Reaching into her coat, Gambit pulled a thick vanilla envelope free, setting it on the table. "Perhaps this will."

Cautiously pick it up and opening it, Simmons eyes widened when he pulled the high definition glossy leading everything else from within. Blinking away his surprise, he quickly moved through the contents taking in several startling facts.

Locations, safe houses, stash houses, even a few names. And that wasn't all either. There was a small list of suspected people who had been 'influenced' by this gang. Several within the PRT and one in the Protectorate.

"If find this last accusation to be...farfetched."

"He was compensated for his involvement in the Two Mauls incident the other day," Gambit replied uncaringly.

"That is a bold statement."

"I provided the video of our confrontation. It is well known Guppy and I do not get along, but this level of hate for me was surprising. He's always kept his hatred for me balanced before. I found out why when I looked into it. Also, that file is the only copy left. Those who donated deleted theirs."

"Even if a quarter of this is accurate, why?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why?" Simmons frowned. "You don't do anything without wanting something for it. So what are you getting from any of this?

"There is a certain professional pride one should have in the work they do, do you not agree?" Gambit softly asked.

"Even that doesn't explain why you are throwing what looks like your entire organization to the wolves. That doesn't make sense, not after everything you've done over the last two years."

"I'm doing no such thing," she replied calmly. "I'm merely a concerned citizen who happened to come across sensitive information and decided to bring it to a responsible member of law enforcement."

"Except, there is little evidence of cape involvement, aside from you."

"I'm sure you know how best to move it. More so than I would."

"And you still haven't answered my question. What do you want from this?"

"For you to act on it," Gambit answered, getting up from her chair, walking to the door.

"This Marcus must have done something pretty bad to get under your skin like this," Simmons risked pitching.

Gambit paused at the door. "I'm leaving New Orleans."

Curiosity peaked at that free tidbit, he asked, "For how long?"

"Permanently, I hope."

After thinking on it a moment, he chuckled, asking, "Should I warn Director Piggot she should expect to see more of you in her city?"

"I'm sure they'll figure it out soon enough," Gambit surprisingly answered. "You know me, I like to be a part of things."

Shaking his head at how bizarre this whole encounter with the enigmatic cape was going, not to mention how unbelievably talkative she was he asked, "You know, evidence or not, Piggot isn't going to treat you like I did. She's a much harder woman and sees the world much differently. She's also a hell of a lot smarter than I am and when she's got a bone in her teeth, she could give a bulldog a challenge."

"I'll keep that in mind but I think a change of pace would be best for all of us, don't you think?"

Looking at the opened envelope again, Simmons nodded. "I think that is something we can agree on."

"Besides, Brockton has something I've been looking for."

"And what would that be?"

"Answers," Gambit whispered, leaving the room as silently as she entered.


	15. Settling In: Chapter 1

**Settling In: Chapter 1**

Waking up in the still unfamiliar bed, I stretched beneath my thick covering of blankets. My need for several thick blankets was something that amused Danny to no end. Despite that, the heating unit in the old house worked perfectly fine. It was just that Brockton Bay was cold. And, as I had informed Danny, I hated the cold. He understood, or at least, he accepted it enough to buy me three more. He didn't need to, but I appreciated it in the spirit it was meant.

The clock showed it was just before six, which was perfect. Slowly extracting myself from my warm heaven, I quickly put my feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers. As quickly as I could, I threw a hoodie over my shoulders, and headed downstairs to start Danny's coffee. A routine quickly established in the last week as he had to leave for work early. With how busy his work normally kept him, especially after being gone for a week, we didn't have a lot of time together.

This made the whole father daughter dynamic we were working on harder in a lot of ways. Easier in some, as this was all very new to me and the only people I was used to closely associating with on this kind of level was Sam and Penny. A father and daughter relationship was not quite the same thing.

Smiling to myself as the coffee machine started chugging, I opened the cabinet and took down a box of Earl Gray tea for myself. It was generic, but that was fine. We were both still trying to get used to each others quirks. Penny told me it would take some time before we passed through the awkward stage and got used to each other's likes and dislikes.

Sounds of the bathroom door opening upstairs told me Danny had finished his shower. As my water started to boil, I heard him move to his bedroom and close his door. He wouldn't be long now.

Opening the fridge was proving to be a challenge each time I did. Like the cabinets, the contents of Danny's refrigerator highlighted that he had lived alone for some time. Eggs, a half gallon of milk, condiments, more than a few of which might be out of date, and two beers left over from his six pack from last night.

No wonder he was so skinny. I ate better in the Street Rats.

Sighing, I reluctantly took some eggs and the bacon to start breakfast for us. This, among other things would need to change. But I would deal with that later when I checked in. Today was supposed to be the day my contacts finalized all the arrangements for my return.

"You don't have to keep making breakfast for me, Renée," Danny exasperatedly greeted.

"I don't mind," I returned. "Besides, this is what daughters are supposed to do, no?"

"I should be the one making breakfast for you."

"Yes, but then we would be living on cold cereal," I teased.

"What is wrong with corn flakes?"

"That you ask such a question should tell you why you will never be trusted with breakfast."

Shaking his head, Danny pulled the kettle from the stove. While I made sure the bacon didn't burn, he poured himself a cup of coffee and set my tea to seep.

"Well, thank you for breakfast. Have any plans for today?"

"Depends on how things stand," I answered while separating breakfast onto plates. "I can't really risk moving freely until certain goals are established. Well, I could, but it wouldn't be prudent nor beneficial to our long term situation. I'll know more later when my lawyer calls me."

Nodding, Danny thanked me again once I set his plate in front of him. "I think I can understand that. There are a lot of questions you probably don't want to answer about the last two years. At least, to law enforcement."

"Very true, but we have to tell people something. I just can't integrate into Taylor's life after something like this. Which is why it's taking a long time. But, I'm patient and the lawyer I'm using is the best. Not necessarily on this particular topic, but his firm is well connected and he does phenomenal work according to the firm I used in New Orleans."

"This must cost quite a bit," Danny asked worryingly.

"I am more than willing to pay for quality work if it will provide the desired outcome. Besides, professional expertise usually is expensive, Danny. You should know this, you run a union. They operated on a similar philosophy, no? Professional quality?"

"We do," he nodded. A slight smile on his face as he dug into his eggs. "This is very good, thank you."

"You are very welcome," I smiled back, digging into my own food.

The truth was, the breakfast was only fair. I just didn't have everything I wanted to make it good. But he appreciated the effort, and it was little things like that which was making this whole thing work.

Not to say everything was going smoothly. My first night here, I almost killed him. As was usual when sleeping in an unfamiliar place, I left my door trapped. At some point in the night, for some reason, Danny decided to check on me. Fortunately the damage wasn't bad and it didn't take much to repair the door and frame, but Danny took a hard fall that almost sent him over the railing to the living room below.

After that, he knocked on every door he thought I might be behind. There was also the fact he worked late most nights, so our evening time chances for talking were random. Which was fine, I understood what it took to run a business and Danny took his work seriously. While inconvenient, it was understandable. However evening talks were usually reserved for him telling me about Taylor and Annette.

It wasn't the same as having lived it, and I was missing a lot, but I would take what I could get gratefully. But those nights were a mixed bag. I could tell it hurt him to talk about those days. Especially about Annette. More than once he would drift off into his own world in the middle of a story. Silent in his remembrance before picking up moments later.

Danny seemed to take these stories as his penance for my disappearance. Tried to keep it to the good stuff most nights. But some stories hit close to home. He'd sigh, lose himself in old memories for a while before he could bring himself out of it. Usually, he did so with a smile, that sometimes seemed fake, and others, genuine. Memories that he'd come to terms with, but still lingered like healed wounds. I suspected my presence alone was making him happier than he'd been in a long time. It was hard to… hard to know I was responsible for something like that.

I blinked out of my reverie, and turned to Danny, seeing his concerned look as I realized I'd missed what he'd been saying. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Are you alright?" he asked concerned.

"Fine," I assured him. "Just a big change for both of us. Still getting used to everything."

"It will get easier once you have normal things to occupy your time. Instead of sitting around here all day looking at old photos and waiting on me to get home."

"There is a lot to learn, and it would disrespect Taylor's memory if I didn't try," I replied, sighing. "I already feel like an intruder in her life."

"Never think that," Danny sternly countered. "I've told you before that no matter what you think, I see more and more of her in you than you can imagine."

Smiling weakly, I nodded.

"We… haven't talked about it yet but, Renée, do you… have any aversion to going to school?"

I blinked. _School?_ Like normal people did? A shudder crept up my arms as I realized that to go to school meant to be registered. Known. Categorized just like everyone else...

"Really? Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be to get established if I devote most of my day to something like that?"

"Really? Renée, I can't imagine how school would keep you from creating a thieves guild. It's the perfect recruitment zone," Danny chuckled. "Think of all the unsuspecting suckers in that kind of environment? But on a more serious note, it would be good for you to be around people your own age. Also, people need tutoring in subjects. You said you did that kind of thing before."

"True," I nodded seriously. After a moment I sighed, "This is a blatant attempt for me to interact with people outside my comfort zone. Isn't it?"

"If you mean to get you to interact with your peers in a normal structured environment and distract you from making enemies of local crime lords – or stealing everything they own – then yes."

"Well… that's no fun." I bit my lip with a frown.

"Renée," Danny growled at my pout. The playful and much too wide grin on his face ruined it.

Rolling my eyes I huffed, "You're entirely too reasonable for your own good. From what I hear, most parents follow the 'Do what I say or else' philosophy. Couldn't you be more like that so I could start my teenage rebellion already? I hear those are supposed to be very dramatic."

"I think creating your own criminal empire is enough rebellion for anyone's teenage years," Danny said, trying to hold in his mirth.

"Empire, please. Empires are for amateurs. Gambit does not work in such mundanes. I created a _name brand_!" I bragged, then paused. "Don't expect good grades."

"Nah, uh. I draw the line there. No trademarking or criminal unionization if you can't manage to get A's on your math tests."

"Hmm, I think I can work with that," I half joked. Shaking my head, I turned serious. "Alright, I'll give it a try. I'll talk to people and see what needs to be done to make it happen. I guess that is something that would be expected after my return. However, I reserve the right to homeschooling if this turns into more trouble than it's worth. I'm quite used to self study."

"It will be fine, you'll see," Danny said obviously pleased.

"You're not the one who has to wear giant uncomfortable contact lenses and sit in a class listing to someone tell you something you already know, or won't need to know to survive in this world."

"Survive maybe. Thrive? You'll need it. Or did you want to be a thief for the rest of your life?"

Mildly offended, I murmured, "You say that like it's a bad thing…"

"It's only a bad thing if it's not what you truly want. Or if you get caught. I'm...worried. You wouldn't be the first cape to lose themselves in that kind of life and there is so much more to it than you have seen yet."

I fidgeted. A large part of me wanted to say that yes, I did. But… stealing was something I'd been forced to do. Something I'd had no choice in. I'd made an art out of it, and actually came to enjoy it. But was that enjoyment real, or just me stubbornly clinging to the only path that had ever been available to me?

…

"I'll… try, Danny."

"Alright," he said returning my nod. "I'll try to be home early tonight and you can tell me what your lawyers have accomplished and what I need to do. Alright?"

"Sounds fine. Have a good day at work, Danny." Standing up with him, I let Danny wrap his arms loosely around me.

Hugs were still very awkward, but as I was learning, kinda nice.

Standing on the porch, I watched him get into his car and leave. Time to start my day.

A quick shower followed by picking out a comfortable outfit to suit my plans, I took my phone and earbud off their respective chargers. Checking the time and finding it acceptable, I dialed.

"Good morning, Ms. Lebeau," the masculine voice on the other end greeted me. "Or perhaps Ms. Hebert would be more appropriate?"

"Bonjour, Mr. Calle. I take it things are right on time?"

"Hmm," he muttered, obviously drinking something. "I received the expected update from Ms. Halleyway in regards to your status. Congratulations, you are currently now legally and officially Renée Hebert."

Nodding as I took a pad of paper and my pen down stairs. "No problems on that end?"

"No. The judge was very sympathetic once we explained your amnesia and how you legally spent the last two years you have been missing under the name Renée."

Several stairs squeaked as I used them. Frowning, I took note of it before heading into the living room. Looking around I figured I would need several different cleaners to properly take care of everything. While Danny wasn't a slob, it was still obvious that he only made the bare minimum effort to keep things nice. I started compiling a list of what I would need.

"Was there any questions on my background I should be aware of?"

"Not from the judge," Calle replied. "Missing Persons had questions but the representative I found and assigned to handle that was able to satisfy them enough to see everything proceed apace once everything was properly researched. Excellent use of witness statements, Ms. Hebert."

Finished, I looked at the basement door shaking my head. That was going to be a chore for another day. I'd been down there once and that was enough. Looking at the walls in the living room and comparing them to those in the kitchen, I decided I was going to need a color swatch before I decided on paints. Noting that, I also added one for looking around to see if it would be better to just hire someone to do it. Then again, it might be a fun activity for Danny and I to do together. Fathers and daughters did that kind of stuff, right?

"I didn't want to leave anything to chance," I replied. "Is it to early to ask for an assessment of where we are at?"

"Of course not, my dear," Calle's smooth voice assured me. "I am always at a client's disposal. Especially for such an interesting client."

"Hush, _chérie_. Are you trying to make me blush?" I asked playfully while opening all the cabinet doors. There was no help for it. I really needed to go grocery shopping. This was just sad. Picking up my pad and pen, I started making a list of everything we'd need or needed replacing.

Calle chuckled as he reported, "Well, as you probably surmised, we have managed to answer the question of your disappearance. As expected, the fact that we cannot produce a 'how' caused a few red flags."

"I expected it would. That was always going to be the hard part."

"Indeed. The family law firm I subcontracted for you assures me that everything is well settled now. Your case is closed and local PD is well aware that if they have questions they are to contact them instead of you personally for now. They have questions they would like to ask to satisfy their curiosity, but respect your traumatic experience and need to simply readjust back into your old life."

Nodding to myself, I opened the fridge again, then closed it. It would be better just to start from scratch. More additions to my list as I asked, "How much time does this buy me?"

"Perhaps as much as a month? Considerably less if you are indiscreet with your civilian ID. I would recommend as soon as you are comfortable however. It will make the process easier."

Nodding at that expected news, I said, "On a related note, I need to enroll in school."

"Oh?" Calle asked seemingly surprised.

Done with my lists here I started rooting through the drawers. Danny really needed to update his stock. Penny would have cried herself sick if she saw this. I added what I could think of to the list. "Danny requested it and I said I would think about it. It would make more sense than the fact that I didn't enroll."

"That shouldn't be difficult," Calle assured me. "I'll pass it along to Rockwell who is handling your case on the family services side. You will need to take assessment tests, of course. I'll make sure Rockwell is ready to set up everything and figure out which school districts your current residence falls into. Did you have a preference?"

"In choice of school?" I asked slightly confused.

"Yes. If I am not mistaken, I believe there is a decent public school in that area as well as a private school, and then of course there is Arcadia. A sort of premier school for those who can afford it. Not quite a private school, but is has a strict admittance policy. Generally for the more fortunate as it is expensive. My niece goes there actually. Very respectable."

"I don't know," I admitted pausing in my list writing. "I've never actually gone to school before."

"I'll make sure Mr. Rockwell prepares something appropriate for you to look over," Calle said. "Since you don't have any formal schooling you may only have the local public school as a choice. I think your test scores will play a factor either way but Rockford will know more on that."

That sounded close enough to right for me. This was the kind of thing I was paying him for after all. Satisfied with my lists here,I wrapped myself in my jacked walking outside making sure to dodge the third step. Then flipped the page and made that my first note. A short walk to the side of the house allowed me to retrieve a ladder from a disused storage cubby and set it against the house.

"It's not too late for this kind of thing, is it?"

"I wouldn't think so. Granted the school year is in its last stages, but this would give you a chance to get used to the setting. That would be a huge benefit since you have no memories of what to expect. I can see several benefits of pushing forward in this vein."

Letting the subject drop, I said, "That sounds fine and I don't need to make any decisions today. Knowing my options will be good."

The roof wasn't in as bad a shape as I feared judging by how the sides looked. Still, it was tar shingles that looked like they'd been there for sometime. Worse, the gutters didn't look like they had been cleaned in a very long time. I wasn't an expert in this stuff but I was pretty sure that was going to cause problems unless fixed. Notes taken, I put the ladder back adding to my ever growing list as I walked around the house.

It was going to get repainted. At the least.

"Of course," he easily agreed. "Now that we have those issues settled, I am obliged to state that it would be in keeping with the current legal system to register yourself with the local PRT if you plan on being an active cape in Brockton Bay."

"Ah, _mon cher_ , we both know that isn't going to happen," I chuckled.

"You being an active cape, or you registering as one?"

"Yes."

Peach? Hmm, no. I was partial to brick red, but that wouldn't work here. Looking around at the other houses didn't help. Maybe something a bit more fun? I'd ask someone at the hardware store after I took some pictures.

"Need I remind you of a recent incident in New Orleans? Such events tend to make local law enforcement, including the PRT and by extension the Protectorate, nervous. I have found nervous capes tend to make situations...volatile."

"Perhaps," I drawled, not really disagreeing. "But I would like to keep my lives separate. I've never had that option before. Registering is counterproductive to that endeavor."

"You're the client," Calle said.

Finally, I looked over the our depressing lawn. Flowers. Spring was here, kind of, so flowers. Fun ones to suit the local environment. Definitely needed to talk to someone about that. There had to be a florist or something in this city who could advice me. That would work. More notes. Also, something really needed to be done with that poor fence.

"On a similar note, are there any existing links I should be aware of between a certain gambler and Renée?"

"None on our end. However, unless you have a solution to your eyes, it won't be difficult to establish them."

"I have special contacts that mostly conceal them," I informed him. "I use them rarely, but most likely will more going forward."

"Hmm, that should work, I think. I can talk to Michel later and set up a time for you to meet if you like. She has a lot of expertise preparing our clients for their day in court. Appearances mean everything in such situations. She could tell you if there is anything you need that would help."

"I would like that."

"Excellent, then was there anything else I could do for you today, Ms. Hebert?"

"Not that I can think of, Mr. Calle," I answered honestly, looking over Danny's house with a critical eye. "I appreciate all that you have done for me. I know it's not your usual work. However, I don't like the idea of trusting my future to a lesser practitioner, and you were referenced as the best."

"I'm pleased my reputation extends even as far as to our friends in the south," Calle replied smugly. "And it is no trouble. I am enjoying the challenge and change in pace. I shall bid you a good day, Ms. Hebert. Until I learn of something new."

"Goodbye, Mr. Calle."

Giving the area one last look and not seeing anything I might have missed, I walked back inside. Once showered and dressed, I struggled with putting in my contacts, which were always an issue to get just right. Finally, my makeup and I was ready to venture into town.

My plan was simple. Just pick up a few things to stock the house. Most of my notes were going to require talking to Danny at least, while others would require a professional repairman. Half way into my grocery shopping I decided that in addition. Danny and I made it a week, and aside from a bit of awkwardness here and there, it was actually pretty good. With that in mind, I would get things for a nice dinner tonight.

A quick call to Penny for an ingredient list of what I would need sent me to several different stores looking for them. A trek that took quite a bit of time covering a lot of different stores but would be worth it in the end. Penny kept me company during most of it, asking questions in that way of hers and oohing and awwing about how cute it was to hear about my efforts.

I had to call a cab to get home by the time I found everything. Once home, I set about making everything, once again with Penny talking my ear off as I kind of solo'd my first dinner. Thankfully by the time she had to go she managed to give me all the instructions I would need to finish everything.

By the time five rolled around I was tired, but everything was exactly as she said it would be. More or less. I wasn't Penny, who had an unreal gift in the kitchen, but I wasn't bad and her instructions were very good. I was just closing the oven door when the house phone rang.

"Bonjour," I greeted once I picked up the archaic thing.

"Hello, Renée," Danny returned. "Something came up here. It's going to take a while to straighten out."

"Oh," I said, frowning. "I don't suppose you could get out of it? I made dinner."

"Sorry kiddo," he sighed tiredly. "I know that last few nights have been rough with me coming in late all the time but..."

Not quite willing to admit defeat after all the effort, I explained, "But, I made pot roast...my creoles...and do you have any idea how hard it was to get everything for a real gumbo? It's not going to be as good cold. Maybe you can come home to eat, then head back?"

"I wish I could. I can always microwave it when I get home…"

 _MICROWAVE!_

"Gambit don't make no TV dinner!" I shouted losing what cool I had.

Slamming the receiver back, I huffed, not the least bit sorry. Didn't he know what he was missing? Spooning a bit of gumbo from the pot, I sampled it finding it to be absolutely delicious. Not as good as Penny's, but damn good. It wasn't even as spicy as I liked it out of respect for Danny's constitution.

The house phone rang. I ignored it.

" _Microwave,_ " I grumbled. "Like this was McDonald's take out or something. Bah!"

The house phone rang. Again. I ignored it. Again.

Still fuming I unplugged it the third time it tried ringing.

Seeing my phone on the table, I picked it up dialing a number quickly. There was one person in the Bay who would appreciate a good gumbo.

"This had better be fucking good," Jess growled. "I'm watching Assault kick the shit out of Uber and Leet."

"Danny's working late," I sighed. "Again. I made food. Creole, gumbo and pot roast. Hungry?"

"Real food? Like the kind I don't have to order that gets delivered by some pimply shit? That kind of food? It's free right?"

"Yes," I answered rolling my eyes.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

I chuckled at her quick response, then added, "I don't suppose you know anyone who would be interested in a friendly game? I need something fun to do."

"I might..."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Not letting the sound of keys rattling in the old lock in the back door, I instead kept my focus on the costumed man across from me. A slight smile on my face as he looked at the pot, then up at me.

"You're bluffing."

"That is the question. Isn't it, _mon cher?_ " I asked.

The man dressed like a bad spy actor, nodded confidently, raising.

Sighing, his friend - who was also dressed in a similar get up - called.

Sitting to my left, Circus leaned back carelessly on the back legs of their chair, throwing in.

"I will see your five hundred," I said, pulling a billfold from my jacket. Counting the money inside, I tossed the bills on the table, "and raise you two thousand."

Behind me, a very large man audibly gulped down what must have been half a makeshift pot roast sandwich.

"Now I know you're bluffing," the sole hero at the table accused me. His red visored mask kept me from seeing his eyes, but not the frown on his mouth. "You're trying to buy your way out of this bet."

"It will cost you two large to know for sure, _chérie_ ," I replied smoothly, sitting back into my chair.

Still frowning, Assault counted out his chips, which was most of them, and added them to the considerable pile, which was the scene Danny walked in on once he won his battle with the door.

I needed to add that to the list.

Ignoring his flabbergasted expression as he took in the capes that had taken over his kitchen, I smiled turning my attention to Uber.

"Call," he said confidently, throwing in his own stack. "I'm with Assault, you're bluffing your ass off."

"Not me," Leet said, shaking his head as he put his cards down. "Way too broke for this shit."

Circus smirked, using their feet to slide over the chips with about as much care as they did anything.

With everyone's eyes on me, I started putting down my cards one at a time. Enjoying the groans and curses from the others as they watched. Queens over sevens.

"Puppy's going to kill me," Assault groaned as his head hit the table.

Seeming enjoying his reaction, Circus slow clapped for me, not even bothered by their loss. Behind me, Chubster chuckled while Leet smirked, being the only people who didn't lose to me this round.

"Fuck it," Uber cursed. Sighing, he shook his head. "It's only money, right? And we got a kick ass dinner out of it."

Several people chuckled, which was more funny as Assault was noticeably not one of them. After a moment banging his head against the table, he suddenly bolted upward. "What time is it?"

"Five after midnight," Danny answered chokingly, bringing everyone's attention to him.

Uber turned to me, tilting his head at Danny. I answered the silent question, "The host."

Several nods of understanding greeted my answer as everyone accepted his presence.

"Oh shit. She really is going to kill me. My shift ended hours ago…" Assault palmed his face in worry.

"Did you call in our fight earlier?" Uber asked.

"No, didn't think I needed to since I figured you'd guys would have been long gone before anyone showed up anyway." The poor guy looked really beat up about it.

"Hey," Uber said, turning to Leet. "We still got those kill bots from that skit last month?"

"Three of them," Leet nodded thoughtfully. "Still work too. Well, kind of. I never did get that glitch out of their programming that makes them sing 'I'm so Ronery' whenever they're damaged."

"How long would it take to set up something for Assault to stop?"

"Shit, not long. Five, maybe ten minutes tops," Leet estimated easily. "They're not good for much right now except for a distraction and there's that jewelry store just down the street we could hit."

"You guys would really do that for me?" Assault asked hopefully. "I mean, you know this won't change anything later, right? If I see you guys committing a crime, I'm going to try and stop you."

I looked over to Danny; his entire brain had quite clearly come to a stop, and his jaw was lost somewhere on the floor. His head kept rotating slightly, shifting from villain to hero in an attempt to make sense out of the situation.

"It's all good man," Uber said as Leet nodded. "We know how it goes but we had a blast tonight. It's not often we can just be chill about shit, you know?"

I smiled watching all three get up. Counting the chips they had left, I handed them their take, or lack of one in Assault case.

Once they left making plans about how to save Assault from the wrath of his 'Puppy', I turned to Circus seeing them also getting up.

"Time to cash out."

I nodded, counting out their winnings and handing it over. "Thanks for setting everything up on short notice. It was nice to meet some of the locals."

"No problem," they said. "The food was worth it."

Smiling at the compliment, I turned to my last guest as Circus smirked at a stunned Danny.

"Dinner was wonderful, Gambit," Chubster's deep voice complimented me.

Seeing the look on his face, I offered, "Set aside a bowl for the host, and you can have the rest."

"Really?"

I nodded and he went to work eagerly. "We still on tomorrow at the sandwich shop? I'm looking forward to seeing what New England thinks is a proper po' boy."

"Of course, I eat there every day," he agreed. "Come by, I'll introduce you to the manager."

"Excellent."

Satisfied with his take out, Chubster nodded happily to Danny and squeezed past his unmoving body to leave.

Sighing at such a good evening, I counted out my take and removed several hundred dollar bills.

"Renée?"

"Yes, Danny?"

"Please tell me I just imagined my kitchen was hosting a poker game between four villains, a hero, and my daughter?"

"A successful poker game," I corrected smugly, handing him the small stack I set aside. "Here."

"And what...is that?" Danny asked weakly.

"Your cut," I explained. "The host always gets a cut. It's respect."

"Renée," he sighed tiredly.

"It is very rude to refuse gratuity, Danny," I said, narrowing my eyes as I frowned. "Very...insulting to everyone who had a seat at the table."

Danny seemed to deflate at my tone. Reluctantly, very reluctantly I noted, he took it. Nodding a bit sharply, I started cleaning up.

"Your...leftovers, when you want them, are in the fridge."

"Alright," Danny sighed again. "I'll just...take a quick shower then I'll eat."

"I'll make sure your _microwave_ is ready for you," I replied tartly.


	16. Interlude: Player

**Interlude: Player**

Rory shouldn't have been surprised by the scene waiting for him in the break room. But, he was. While it wasn't unusual to see Ethan smirking while sitting next to Samantha this was the first time he'd done so with a black eye. For her part Samantha had an annoyed look about her tinged with embarrassment as she made inroads into a bowl of oatmeal with her head down.

Next to him, Hannah seemed just as taken aback as he was as she looked over the scene.

"Are you alright, Ethan?"

"Puppy hit me," he replied proudly in a tone that just screamed he was begging for an audience.

Samantha winced, seemingly to shrink a bit into her seat.

"She's always hitting you," Rory noted, playing along. "But, she's never blackened your eye before."

"She hit me really hard."

"I said sorry," Samantha mumbled.

Sighing, Hannah asked, "What did you do this time, Assault?"

"Well, it started yesterday…"

"Wait; is this going to be a long story full of things you did wrong that will fully justify the damage she caused you?"

"It's a good story," Ethan countered immediately. It was telling that he didn't bother to deny the rest of the charges.

"I'm sure it will be, considering how eager you look to tell it," Hannah said tiredly. "However, if it's going to be a long story, I want coffee and to sit down. I was night watch last night."

"I can wait," he said with an evil grin.

Rolling her eyes, Hannah huffed, walking to one of available coffee pots. Likewise, Rory nodded, heading for his own cup.

Ethan's stories, while usually exaggerated, were always fun.

Taking his seat and making no attempt to hide his smile, Rory waited for Hannah to finished sweetening hers. Ethan wasted no time in starting once she pulled back her chair.

"So, I come across Uber and Leet over on Industrial Court," he started. "I almost missed them but caught a glimpse of that flying camera of theirs."

"Shiny Object Syndrome finally paying off?" Hannah needled from behind her cup.

Ignoring Samantha's not so quietly mumbled, 'squirrel', Ethan continued, "They were running some kind of spy theme. No idea what they were actually planning on doing though. It looked like I found them before they really kicked it off. But they spotted me so then we started fighting. That was when the weirdest thing I've ever had happen to me, happened."

"They surrendered?" Rory guessed knowing better.

"Don't encourage him," Samantha groused, swirling her breakfast.

"No, Circus shouted at us from an adjacent rooftop," Ethan revealed.

"That isn't so strange," Hannah said. "He, or she, whatever, _they_ are always shouting vulgarities at people. Half the reports of them are exactly about that."

"That was the weird part," Ethan smirked obviously loving the attention. "They weren't cursing. They asked if we were hungry."

"Hungry?" Hannah asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah hungry. For food," Ethan clarified.

"Well, that's not random," Rory muttered shaking his head.

"Not just any food either, specifically if we wanted Louisiana style creoles, gumbo, and pot roast."

"Okay," Rory chuckled. "Oddly specific, but still random."

"It gets better," Ethan said. "The second Circus said that, Chubster walked around the corner of a building."

"Bullshit," Rory laughed.

"No, I'm serious. Not only does he walk around the corner, but he's holding up his hand. His hand! And says, 'I do'!"

"Now I know you're full of it," Rory said rolling his eyes.

"Seriously, you can't make up this stuff," Ethan said, obviously holding in his own laughter. "But that isn't even the crazy part of the weirdness."

"Go on, you incorrigible child," Samantha sighed. "Just tell them."

"No, this is the best story I've had in months," Ethan argued immediately. "It's even better than that crazy fan girl that was stalking Gram. You know the one I'm talking about. The one who somehow found his home address then snuck into his bedroom while he was sleeping and crawled into bed with him. Yeah, that one, and my story is better. It demands to be told right."

Hannah sighed, saying dryly, "That has yet to be seen as we have yet to get to the part where Battery felt the need to hit you."

"I'm getting there," Ethan chuckled. "So, the crazy part, after asking if we're hungry, Circus says that they'll take us to food, if we agree to 'The Arch Understanding'."

At the blank looks Ethan received, he clarified, "The Lords Ruling?"

"You guys need to get out more," he said shaking his head at the blank looks he was still receiving. "Seriously, I know for a fact the Lords Ruling is specific to the Bay."

When it became clear none of them knew what he was talking about, Ethan sighed. "It's like neutral truce rules."

"Why would you agree to something like that?" Hannah asked confused.

"A better question, why do did you say that with specific names as if they were actual things?" Rory asked just as confused as Hannah.

"Seriously, haven't any of you ever gone to a cape party?" Ethan asked.

"Not with _villains_ ," Samantha answered tartly. "Some of us have standards."

"Hardliners," Ethan grumbled, shaking his head. "Not all villains are like Kaiser and Lung you know. A lot of them actually fairly decent people. Just made a bad call or are in a bad way."

Sighing at the age old argument between them, Samantha didn't reply.

"Well, Uber and Leet are more a menace than an actual threat," Hannah hedged. "Their rap sheet is mostly destruction of public and private property and subsidiary crimes depending on the skit they are doing that week. No body counts on their records, true, but that doesn't make them the kind of people I would want to socialize with."

Nodding Rory added, "And Chubster's about as low key a villain as they get. Just runs that protection racket out of the old Tioga Apartments. But I still wouldn't want him at my house for a barbecue. Much less Circus."

"Right, but you're missing the point," Ethan said exasperatedly. "Indies on both sides of the line don't have what we have here. Or what a structured gang can give them. So socializing as a cape, is kind of a hard thing to pull off without either joining someone or making their own gang or team. And some people just like being independent."

Nodding, Hannah motioned him to go on.

"Well, trust is an issue and these kinds of things are almost always by invite only. If a cape wants to do whatever as a cape they ask under these specific kinds of truce rules. Other capes either go along or don't depending on who it is."

"What would be the purpose of something like that? Just for fun?" Rory asked.

"Sure, but it's also a good way to network," Ethan explained. "Make connections. New capes in the know might throw a barbecue or a party of whatever they're into. Invite some the local indies over under truce rules. Capes show up. People talk; sharing experience or brag depending on the moment. Like minded capes might agree to alliances, trade favors for stuff from others, things like that. A lot of stuff can happen during one of these things. I've seen teams even form from one of these things just because all the capes hit it off."

"So, a casual setting for capes who either don't have or don't want a more organized affiliation?" Hannah asked curiously.

"It's usually part of it. I got at least a third of my clients that way when I was Madcap," Ethan agreed, not bothered with talking about his past with his friends and team. Rory nodded feeling grateful to be part of the few who knew though if anyone wanted his opinion, it wouldn't be a secret. Success stories like Ethan's were what made the Protectorate something to be proud of.

"Also these things are usually pretty fun too," Ethan continued. "I mean, it's all about making an impression. Capes in general are pretty flamboyant and indies really don't have people they can show off to unless they're playing to a crowd of civies. We know better than most that capes are just like everyone else, just with powers but you have to be a cape to really understand the life."

"But heroes _and_ villains?" Rory asked, having a hard time getting over that particular point.

"Sure," Ethan answered casually. "At one event I was at, an indie hero and indie villain who hated each other at the start were laughing about it later just because they got to know each other and realized that what they hated was mostly a misunderstanding. Most events I've been to had a mix of both. Support is support no matter where you can find it. It's a great way to settle disputes or just talk things out in a civil way without drawing gang attention."

"But what happens when they can't get along?" Hannah asked.

"General rule is to be civil, and if you can't be civil to someone, ignore them or find yourself on everyone's blacklist. Like I said, these things are pretty unique to just these kinds of capes. No one who plays the line wants to be on the outs."

"So, getting back to the story. Circus invited Uber, Leet, Chubster, and you, to a cape party where there was food under these weird neutral truce rules," Rory asked, trying to make sense of the story.

"Yeah," Ethan chuckled. "But the kicker was the first set of rules they used. Arch Understanding is what we called it in St. Louis."

"You think Circus knows about your past?" Hannah asked more than a bit alarmed.

"Pretty sure they do, but by the fact they used the truce rules, I don't think they plan on spreading it around," Ethan answered surely. "What I think they were trying to do was goad me into not taking up the invite. Even if I didn't, they were calling me out as knowing about the truce so I'd have to back off."

"So, of course, you fell for it and did accept," Hannah sighed.

"Yes I did," Ethan said smiling widely. "Something was up and I wanted to know what it was."

"And that's why Samantha hit you," Hannah shook her head.

"No, that's why I kicked him," Samantha muttered. "We haven't gotten to the part that earned him a black eye."

"Oh dear," Hannah sighed. "I have a feeling this story is only going to get worse. But by all means, Ethan, continue."

"Right, so, Chubster was in, of course. Uber looked at Leet, and both nodded. Which left me the odd man out, so I agreed. Mostly just to find out what was going on, but also, food."

At the deadpan stares he received, Ethan said, "What? I'm a guy. I was hungry and I told you, the food at these things is usually really great."

Quickly moving on when Samantha turned to face him, Ethan said, "So, Circus jumps down and takes us to where the food was."

"Wait, how?" Rory asked.

"In their jeep."

"A jeep?" Hannah asked reluctantly. "All of you?"

"That is entirely irrelevant to the story," Ethan deadpanned. "And all involved swore never to speak of it in any but the most vagueish of terms. Such questions are not meant to be answered."

Smiling at Ethan's dramatics, Rory promised himself to check online later to see if anyone got pictures. This was Brockton Bay, someone had to have gotten a picture of that. Snickering to himself, he waved for Ethan to continue, which he seemed eager to do.

"Alright, so we get to the host's house…"

"You mean Circus's house?" Hannah asked, interested.

"Of course not," Ethan said, seemingly put out at being interrupted again. "You guys don't know about that either?"

" _We_ were never villains," Samantha needlessly reminded him.

Rolling his eyes but not commenting, Ethan explained, "The host isn't anyone. Just some random person."

"Did they force some random civilian to give up their home for this?" Hannah asked, sounding offended. "And you let that happen?"

"No, of course not, that's not how it works," Ethan said, sounding offended himself. "The way it's supposed to go is that the cape running things finds a civilian and pays them a lot of money to use their home. Usual rules are no fighting or trashing the place. Clean up after, things like that. Common courtesy stuff. The hosts usually elects to go out on the town that night, stay late or just stay out and come back in the morning."

"People actually let capes do that kind of thing?" Rory asked.

"Sure, happens all the time," Ethan said. "The civie gets a wad of cash for bills or whatever they want it for, the capes get a random location to do their thing that isn't connected to anyone, and everyone wins. If something happens and things get damaged, the capes take care of it or word spreads and the offender is never invited to another thing."

"And how often does that happen," Hannah asked.

"Not as much as you would think," Ethan answered. "Most people into this kind of thing have been around a while, they know the rules and keep to basic rules of civility. Also at the start of each one of these things the rules are always brought up to make sure everyone's on the same page. Like I said, it's about connections and fun."

"And this particular host. You are absolutely sure they were consenting?" Hannah pressed.

"Yeah, he showed up around midnight. Looked really shocked we were still there but other than seemed to accept it. He definitely seemed to know who was throwing the party."

"Alright, go on," Hannah said, not seemingly convinced.

"Right so we get there and meet the cape running things and you'll never guess who it was."

When no one seemed willing to humor him, and with more than one impatient look, Ethan leaned forward, smiling, "Gambit."

"Gambit?" Hannah repeated, looking far more interested in Ethan's story than she was a moment ago. "Are you sure?"

Samantha snorted, while Ethan nodded saying, "You can't fake those eyes and I looked into them for a good chunk of the night. Trust me, it was Gambit."

"I'm missing something," Rory mumbled. "Who's Gambit?"

"A New Orleans cape Samantha and I spotted a little over a week ago while we were shopping," Hannah answered. "We think she might have been responsible for the Anders robbery. It fits her MO."

"The Anders Robbery? I wasn't aware that had a cape connection. I thought there wasn't any evidence taken from the crime scene." Rory said.

"That's Gambit's MO and why we think she was involved."

Not willing to point out that a lack of evidence wasn't evidence in itself to the more seasoned cape, Rory nodded silently.

"Well, she might have been from New Orleans before," Ethan said knowingly. "But not anymore."

"What do you mean not any more?" Hannah asked.

"I mean she's moved to the Bay," Ethan answered smugly. "Told me so herself. That was what the dinner was about. It was a meet and greet and apparently she knows Circus and asked her to find friendly locals for it."

Hannah looked to Samantha, who sighed, "There goes my peace and quiet. I don't even want to think about what those two could do to annoy the capes in this city. Much less what any of them could do with Uber and Leet helping..."

"So what happened?" Rory asked, being more interested himself now that he could see a point to the weirdness.

"Introductions and dinner once Gambit reaffirmed everyone understood the rules for it," Ethan said. "Once she was sure we were good, she asked if we were interested in relaxing with a game of poker."

"Tell me you didn't," Hannah half begged despite the fact Ethan's smile of stupidity clearly said differently. "Ethan…"

Samantha snorted, "He didn't just agree, my idiot husband ran to the closest ATM and withdrew from our savings account."

"It was a two grand buy in," Ethan tried to defend himself. "I only had five hundred on me."

"Why were you even carrying five hundred to begin with?" Rory asked, trying to keep his chuckles in.

"You mean you don't?"

Not willing to involve himself further into an Ethan argument, Rory shook his head and waved for him to continue but couldn't help asking, "How was dinner?"

"Really good," Ethan said, smiling widely. "I never had cajun food before and Gambit's a good cook."

"I'll make sure to add that to her profile," Hannah snidely remarked.

"It's worth noting," Ethan agreed, not acknowledging her obvious sarcasm. Huffing, Samantha didn't comment.

"So, dinner turned into a poker game?" Rory asked before they got any more off track. Even if he was the one to derail the conversation in the first place.

"Yeah, and I was up a little too until the last hand. Leet's terrible and Chubster got knocked out an hour before," Ethan chuckled. "But, Circus is practically impossible to read. Just sat there looking amused and indifferent. As you would expect, Uber was very good. No tells at all, which I think was him cheating with his thinker power but I can't prove it. But the real kick was watching Gambit work the table. She's damn good."

"What do you mean?" Rory asked.

"The profile Drummer sent over said she was often spotted in illegal card rooms," Hannah supplied thoughtfully. "Apparently she likes playing cards for more than just easy ordinance. If there was a card game in New Orleans Gambit probably knew about it, and was there."

"Wouldn't surprise me, she was good. Laid back, easy going, quick with conversation but always with her head in the game no matter what was said or going on," Ethan said. "She's cool headed. No doubt."

"What else did you learn while you were there?" Hannah asked.

"She's friendly. Asked about all of us, what we did for work, how we stood on various things."

"She knows you're with the Protectorate?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, I didn't see a reason to hide it. It's not like it isn't on public record."

"That didn't bother her?" Hannah asked.

"Not at all. She seemed interested. Asked if the rest were as accepting as I was," Ethan continued. "She's very aware of how her eyes make her look unfriendly and seemed to be trying to go out of her way to show differently. Said she had problems with the Protectorate in New Orleans over that issue."

"I think it was more the high profile crimes she committed that caused that rift than how she looked," Hannah said dryly. "But you believe her?"

"I didn't have a reason not to," Ethan answered before continuing. "Gambit also seems interested in learning how the Bay worked. Who the indies were, who to avoid, and what areas the big gangs claimed. Also asked about them a little. Not much, just looking for basics. Asked Uber and Leet about their website and how it was doing. Talked with Chubster about if he knew any decent places to get certain things. Like I said before, these things are usually about making connections, and that was what it looked like she was doing."

After several long moments of silence, Hannah nodded at the information. "A very unconventional manner to get information, but very interesting. It sounds like she is gathering information in preparation of repeating her efforts from New Orleans here. The Director will not like that. Nor, I think, will the gangs when they figure it out."

"Oh, but you haven't heard the best part," Samantha darkly said, narrow eyes turned to her husband. "Tell them how the night ended."

"Hey, remember you said you wouldn't hit me again."

"No," Samantha growled. "I said I was sorry I hit you the first time. I never said I wasn't going to hit you again."

"Well, that's not very heroic…"

Rory snorted. Unfortunately this drew Samantha's attention to him. Quickly raising his hands he apologized, "Sorry! Please don't hit me."

Shaking her head, Hannah mumbled, "Rory…"

"What?" he asked innocently. "She gave a kinetic manipulator a black eye. I want no part of that."

Groaning at being teased, Samantha put her face in her hands. Next to her, Ethan nodded solemnly somehow saying with a straight face, "Smart man. Puppy's got a mean right hook."

"You would know," Hannah chuckled. "Now, if going to this neutral meet isn't what caused Samantha to demonstrate her pugilistic prowess, what did?"

"Oh," Ethan said weakly. "Well, I did mention that Uber and Gambit were pretty good right?"

"Go on," Hannah instructed slowly.

"Well, it turns out, I'm not," Ethan said sheepishly. "At least, I'm not on their level. I think they were going easy on me, but I kinda got overconfident at the end and pushed a bet I really shouldn't have."

"Oh you poor fool," Hannah sighed.

"Hey, I had a flush," Ethan shouted. "That's a hand to bet on. And in a five man game, that's a great hand. How was I supposed to know she wasn't bluffing! I mean, seriously, a full house? Who could have seen _that_ happening?"

Unable to help himself and half dreading the answer, Rory asked, "How much did you lose?"

"Twenty-five hundred," Samantha answered sourly. "Which was everything he had on him, and the two thousand he withdrew."

"Jesus Christ, Ethan," Rory cursed, shaking his head in wonder. "Seriously?"

Seemingly unable to believe it herself, Hannah just stared at Ethan in shock.

"I had a flush," Ethan muttered, trying to defend himself. "And even Uber thought she was bluffing."

"Which explains why Uber and Leet set up a raid for him to stop to explain why he never came home for dinner," Samantha stated darkly. "And when he told me _that,_ I hit him."

Unable to watch the train wreck in front of him any longer, Rory turned gratefully to the offered distraction that was the door opening. Anything but at the married couple or Hannah's wide shocked eyes.

Gram, or Dauntless since was in full costume, walked in seemingly oblivious to the atmosphere his entrance interrupted.

"Okay, so I got one for the books," he said jokingly. "Just got a call to the hotline that required someone to investigate."

Rory asked, "What happened?"

"Apparently there's a girl scout selling cookies on the back side of Beethoven near Jules," Dauntless answered, seemingly amused.

"Okay," Rory slowly said. "She's not in trouble or something though, right?"

Dauntless shook his head, "Not according to the guy who called it in. Just the opposite. He claims that she forced him to buy her cookies."

"Forced...a girl scout forced him to buy cookies?" Ethan asked, looking as puzzled as Rory felt. "Is that even a thing a girl scout could do? Aren't girl scouts little girls? Like four foot and maybe eighty pounds soaking wet? How does that work? Was he passed out drunk and when she found him she stole his wallet leaving him with a box of cookies?"

"He didn't sound drunk when I talked to him and he didn't specify how she did it. But this particular girl scout is apparently working that street with cape muscle backing her."

Four blank stares met that statement for several disbelieving moments of silence before Dauntless held up the assignment script.

"So, who wants this one?"


	17. Settling In: Chapter 2

**Settling In Chapter 2**

Bettie's Buns, which was a name I was still trying to not outright laugh at, was every bit as good a sandwich shop as Chubster claimed. A nice little hole in the wall place in what Chubster told me used to be a hot spot ten years ago. There was a sad charm to the area. Despite the city's decline in the intervening years, and several other establishments not making it, Bettie's somehow did. There were more vacant businesses on this street than open ones, yet, like Bettie's, those that remained open were holding strong.

True to his word, Chubster introduced me to the manager Betty - or so they claimed - and they happily informed me that not only did they bake their own breads for their sandwiches, but also used solely non GMO veggies in all their products.

A marketing gimmick she told me conspiratorially, but one that was keeping her afloat and appealed to the working class that normally frequented her place. It helped that most of what she used came from gardens and greenhouses ran by locals looking to make a bit extra. I'd never even heard of anything like it before. Especially from something inner city like this.

That was something that appealed to me greatly. Not just the gimmick, though a few ideas were spinning around in that vein within my mind, but the fresh veggies. I didn't really consider myself a health nut, but I really liked that fresh taste. Especially on my sandwich, and Betty delivered. Even better, Betty didn't so much as bat an eye at me when I walked in with Chubster. True, she wouldn't meet my eyes, but it was hard to take that personally when she was being as friendly as she was.

Walking out the door, I turned to my large companion once I was clear, continuing the conversation we were having. "It's nothing against Betty, Chubster. But once you have a po' boy from Mother's, there is just no substitute."

Nodding in understanding, Chubster asked, "But, it was still good?"

"Of course it was," I replied easily. "I wouldn't have said so if it wasn't. There is quite a lot about this shop I like and I have a preference for places that put in the work to make a quality product. What were you going to do for the rest of the day?"

"The usual," Chubster said. "I like my life uncomplicated. Brockton Bay is not the most forgiving of cities to be a cape in, Gambit. How about you? Plans for the day?"

Taking out and opening my notebook, I replied, "Yes. Today is looking like an information day. Explore the city and perhaps find people to suit the projects I have going forward. Speaking of, you would happen to know who the local freelance information dealers are, would you?"

"Sorry," Chubster said, shaking his head. "I try to stay out of that as long as it does not spill onto my area. There are capes in this city who do not like people talking about them. Upsetting Lung or Kaiser is something a person only does once."

Nodding to his point, I sighed. "Someone said something similar before I moved here. That informants were usually hunted down. Ah-well. Thanks again for your suggestions on who to hire for fixing up a house. Have a good day, Chubster."

"You too, Gambit, and you're welcome."

Walking toward the open street, I started my main plan for the day; routines. Or more specifically, establishing my routines. Important, since it was looking like finding decent guys in the know wasn't going to pan out. So, if I couldn't find them, I would make myself available for them to find. A daytime routine that was little used, but typical, and later I would establish myself in the nightlife. That way enterprising brokers would know how to find me if they had something to sell. Word would eventually get around, and I was patient. Guilds were not built in a day, after all.

With this in mind, I walked down the street, looking around and taking note of the graffiti. Old tags proclaimed this area was once ABB but now sported fresh E88 markings. Which meant the Azn Bad Boys and Empire Eighty-Eight. The two big dogs fighting over the city, according to Uber and Leet.

This area was still obviously in dispute. I kind of felt bad for Chubster, as his apartment looked like it was in the middle of this border region. That had to make it rough on him when the fighting started.

Seeing a small convenience store ahead, I crossed the street and headed inside. The guy behind the register barely even looked at me before hiding behind his newspaper.

What I was looking for was on a small rickety carousel. Road maps of Brockton Bay. Taking a moment to go through them and picking one that covered just the city, walked up to the register.

The cashier was a young guy, maybe a bit older than me, if that. Nervous as he rang me up and mumbled the price. I paid without comment and watched him make change as quickly as he could with shaking hands. Once done, he went back behind his paper, never having looked at me once.

Thanking him as pleasantly as I could, I took my map and left. That was telling in more ways than one. Either this area was just that rough, or it was because I was a cape, and he was expecting trouble.

Back outside, I shook my head. Maybe I was a bit spoiled after my success in New Orleans, but the cashier's reaction was hard to swallow. That capes generated that kind of reaction was going to mean I had a hard hill to climb in order to establish a comfortable neutral ground here to work out of.

Opening my new map, I quickly marked this location. I had a feeling my new map was going to be well marked with notes before the day was done. My gut was screaming that this wasn't going to be an isolated incident.

Heading down the street, I decided to work an outward spiral to start off with. Unless I found people openly wearing gang colors. Then I would backtrack, mark the location, and move on. Places like that tended to be hard points for that local area and the last thing I wanted was problems with the local entranced hardliners. Just as I finished I heard someone call out to me.

"Gambit!"

Looking up from the map showed that the origin of the high pitched squeal calling my name was rushing toward me. A vaguely familiar girl rushed down the street, complete with flying pigtails and a huge smile.

"Ah, Angela," I said, smiling warmly once I recognized her. "How are you ma petite?"

"Great," she exclaimed far too loudly for being right in front of me. "I thought you went back home?"

"I did, but I liked it here so much, I came back," I answered, looking over her shoulder at the girl cautiously approaching her more exuberant friend. "Did you get your badge?"

"I did," Angela shouted excitedly. "Thank you so much for that. It put me over the top. That was good since Mom's refused to take me anywhere since then to sell more."

Nodding at the expected outcome, I looked again to the other girl who finally caught up. "And who is this?"

Turning around, Angela seemed to realize she left her friend behind when she spotted me. Determined to make it up to the girl, she put her arms around them. "This is my best friend, Marcy. I told you all about her, remember?"

"Ah, so you did. Your partner in all things camping, nature, and crime, if I remember right. Bonjour, Marcy," I said, greeting the stunned girl.

Marcy, for her part, just stared at me seemingly frightened.

"Hey," Angela tried to whisper. "Don't be like that. I told you, she's awesome and she helped me."

"No need for that, Angela," I lightly reprimanded. "I've been told I take some getting used. No need to chide your friend for feeling the way she does."

"Sorry, Marcy," Angela muttered sheepishly. That earned a small smile from the other girl.

Seeing things were fine between them now, I asked, "What are you two up to in this part of town?"

"We live, like, two blocks that way," Angela answered, pointing down the street. "Marcy's mom has to work today so she's staying with me. That's great but it kinda sucks for Marcy."

"Oh?"

Angela nodded sadly. "Yeah, her mom's super busy so she never had a chance to set up anywhere and my mom won't take us to the mall."

"A stall is a large investment in time," I nodded, seeing the safe issue to bring up that wouldn't hurt anyone's feelings. "Have you tried calling your scoutmaster to see if they would be able to help you try to door to door sales?"

"He's busy too," Marcy mumbled bravely, finally speaking up.

"Which sucks because this is our last weekend for it," Angela said, sympathetically hugging her friend. "And that means Marcy won't get her badge this year."

Humming to myself, I pulled my pocket watch free. Taking a moment to rub my thumb over the familiar Dead Man's Hand engraving on the cover before opening it.

"Well, I have a few hours free," I stated. "And I was planning on exploring this part of the city anyways."

"Whoa, really?" Angela asked looking like Christmas had come early.

In contrast, Marcy seemed even sadder. "Mom locked the house. I won't be able to get my stuff…"

"Hush, _ma chère_ , you let Gambit take care of the details. Lead the way."

Perking up, Marcy turned to Angela. Wide smiles that were so infectious they made me smile. Before long we arrived at their houses, which were next to each other. I bet that was nice, to have your best friend live right next to you like that.

Angela waved at us bolting for her house, while Marcy took me to hers. After making sure there wasn't an electrical alarm, I pulled my picks and set to work.

"How did you do that?" Marcy asked in wonder.

"Practice," I replied as the door swung open. "Lots of practice. Natural talent will only get you so far in life. Only with practice does good, become great."

"Can you teach us?" I was mildly disturbed at the effectiveness of the puppy dog look I was receiving. Then again, Angela had that down too, which made me wonder if they practiced it. I wouldn't put it past the pair.

"Not today," I replied. "We already have something to take care of today. Get ready, and don't forget to lock the door behind you when you leave. I'll wait for you outside."

"Okay!" Marcy said, rushing into the house.

Chuckling at her excitement, I set up to wait by the street, looking over my map and the area around us. There were lots of homes in this area and if all else failed, I bet Chubster would buy some. He wasn't too far from here. If not, he might at least let us work his building. Hopefully he didn't ask for a cut but I couldn't say that it wouldn't be unreasonable if he did. I had enough on me to cover it though, so I wasn't too worried.

Angela was the first back, dragging a little red wagon and dressed in her scout clothes, looking fairly smart. Once Marcy joined us, similarly attired, we loaded the wagon and set off down the street. Looking over the photocopied map section of the area they were supposed to work, and comparing it to mine, I found us the shortest route and we got started.

Angela worked the even side of the street, and Marcy worked the odds. I stayed by the street keeping an eye on both and guarded the wagon of cookies while they pitched. Of course, some people weren't home at this time of day, and some weren't interested, but that was how this type of thing worked. The girls never let either discourage them, always keeping a friendly look about them and obviously just happy to be getting a chance to ply their trade.

For my part while they did that, I kept an eye on the graffiti and looking for other more subtle signs of gang occupation. Taking notes on my map of what tags I identified and those I didn't, which I would research later. I didn't see anyone openly wearing colors, which was nice, but didn't necessarily mean anything either. Thankfully, this area wasn't too bad. Most of the people we encountered seemed friendly enough, but as our first hour came to a close, we encountered someone who wasn't.

I didn't hear what was said, but heard the shout and slamming door on Marcy's side. Looking at the small girl showed her looking stunned. Compete with watery eyes and a slightly quivering lip.

Oh hell no.

Angela had already finished her side and was waiting by me, seeing the same thing I did. Before she could move to comfort her friend, I told her to guard the wagon. Then I started over.

Placing one hand on the girl's shoulder earned her hurt expression turned up at me. Giving her a playful wink, I reached over with the other and knocked loudly.

"Who the fuck is it now?" a gruff, hateful voice shouted.

Putting on my best, cheery voice I replied, "Avon calling."

"The fuck," the man inside mumbled as heavy footsteps came closer. "The fuck do you want?"

Not missing a beat and keeping my cheery voice strong, I replied, "We're having a special today on concealer. Perhaps you would like some for that black eye?"

"What black eye?" he shouted, opening the door aggressively.

"The one you're going to have if you don't apologize to this little girl and buy her cookies," I said emotionlessly, doing my best to drill holes through him with my eyes.

He was a big man. Thick arms and thighs that spoke of someone who worked out a great deal or worked a job that put muscle on him. Easily outweighed me by a hundred pounds. The kind of man you would think chewed steel, and shit nails. Definitely the kind of guy you didn't want putting hands on you. It was therefore very satisfying to see his anger leave him. His eyes went wide and he began to tremble under my gaze. When he visibly gulped, I had to squash my smile at his reaction.

My, that was an interesting shade of pale on a such a swarthy guy.

"Hello, sir," Marcy greeted him again in a voice so sugary I could feel my teeth ache. Which was impressive and showed the girl had a vicious streak as well as a bit of spine once her shock wore off.

"My name is Marcy and I'm with the Girl Scouts. Today I am selling a variety of cookies. We have Thin Mint, Peanut Butter, and Shortbread like usual but this year we are also selling Lemonades, Caramel deLites, and gluten free Trios which are peanut butter oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips. They are only five dollars a box. Would you like a box of your own, sir?"

Big Man's eyes darted to the waif, then back to me. In his eyes I could clearly see he understood there was only answer I would accept.

Licking his lips, he nodded, pulling out his wallet. "Er, okay. Sorry about...what I said. Yeah, I… Just any of those you mentioned sound fine."

"Oh, have you tried the Lemonades?" Marcy asked all innocently with a wide smile on her face even as her eyes danced in suppressed mirth. "I love those. I also really like the Caramel deLites. If you haven't had them before, they are very good."

Once again Big Man's eyes darted to me. Seeing my expression unchanged, he dry swallowed saying, "Sure kid, that's fine. I like caramel."

"Thank you sir!" Marcy happily chirped, rushing off to the wagon to get his order. Big Man looked back at me, still seeing my expression unchanged and started to sweat.

"Um, so…"

I said nothing. Just stared.

By the time Marcy came back with his change, which he looked a little shocked to get, and his cookies, his composure was looking a little ragged.

"Thank you again, sir and I hope you have a nice day!"

Once again, Marcy flounced away, a very happy girl scout. Big Man looked at me, seeming uncertain what to do. After a moment, he asked, "Can I go now? Please?"

I nodded slowly. "Do be more polite in the future. I find it tends to lead to less...hazardous ends, no?"

"Y-yes ma'am."

"So polite now," I mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. "Enjoy your cookies."

I turned around, walking back to the girls without a backward glance. Even without it, I could almost hear the man sighing in relief that I left.

The girls were practically insensible in a giggle fit when I reached them, Marcy having told Angela about her little prank on the rude man.

Looking at me with eyes shining in mirth, Angela gushed, "That was stone cool! I wish one of mine had done that."

"He was a meanie, and deserved it," Marcy grouched. Or, it would have been a grouch if she wasn't holding her sides having trouble keeping in her laughter. "You should have seen it, Angela. When he opened that door and saw Gambit standing there, I thought he was going to pee himself!"

Allowing my own chuckles to join their squeals of laughter, I said, "Well, sitting around here making fun of Big Man isn't going to sell cookies and I have to be somewhere in a few hours. So, who wants to go see a very large man with a snacking problem?"

Immediately both girl's hands shot up screaming, "I do!"

"Excellent," I said, smiling. Opening my map, I plotted the best course that would also allow us to hit a some houses along the way. Making sure I had the right streets memorized, I grabbed the handle of the still mostly full wagon, and started walking. "Alright. Let's go get Marcy her badge."


	18. Settling In: Chapter 3

**Settling In: Chapter 3**

Setting down the large paper bag on the kitchen table, I finally sat down with a sigh. Today was a good day, but a long one. I took a few moments to just rest and soak in how much I managed to get accomplished. Which was quite a bit even with helping Angela and Marcy.

Taking off my shoes and setting them out of the way, I quickly put away the few things I bought which belonged in the kitchen. Once finished I pick up my bag and headed to my room where it came to rest on the desk. Looking around I nodded to myself. This was a nice preteen bedroom with lots of the things you would expect from a normal girl. Lots of color, cute animal pictures and stuffies, although that unicorn creeped me out to no end. I swear it was staring directly at me. No matter where I stood.

A nice room, but it _was_ a preteen bedroom. Not a teenager's bedroom, and definitely not Gambit's bedroom. At least, not yet.

First thing that had to happen, the pictures, posters, and such all had to come down and put into boxes pulled up from the basement. Next was knickknacks, stuffed animals, and various other like objects until I had everything stripped bare. I wasn't sure what was supposed to have sentimental value, and Danny wasn't here to ask, so storage in the basement for now. I needed the room. I'd ask him later what everything was supposed to mean and what to do with them then. Some of this stuff might be important or something.

Done with that, I was set to move the furniture. The single bed sitting center stage against the main wall, a small desk sitting between the door and window facing wall, and a wide dresser. Bed moved to the corner with the feet facing the door and dresser under the window next to the bed. That way it could serve as a nightstand. Finally, the desk pushed over to sit next to the closet. All this effort completely opened up one side of main wall. Liking how much space was available now, I started unloading my bag of purchases.

Various maps of Brockton Bay, stationery supplies, markers, push pins, and several other odds and ends were set aside over the dresser and bed in preparation. Nodding that I had everything just the way I wanted it, I got to work.

I was well into my project and plans pushing in a marker push pin when Danny knocked on the door.

"Renée...Renée?"

"Bonjour, Danny," I greeted absently, looking at the time. It was almost five. I'd lost all track of time.

"What's all this?" he asked, walking fully in the room and looking over the chaotic clutter I had decorating the wall.

"Fruits of my labors today," I answered. "I went exploring."

"So I see. What exactly was it you were looking for?"

"Information. Where the gangs were, where the indies were, all that. Also to get a feel for the city. Where the bad parts of town were, hot spots, interesting places, that kind of thing."

"Why?"

"To know what areas to avoid," I answered knowingly. "And what areas I want to be seen in. Take this area here. This area is mostly older homes bought by the working class twenty years ago. Most of the homes haven't changed hands much in the intervening years. The area is fine, modest, and doesn't offer anyone really anything but it's still a rough area with it's share of problems."

"Now," I said, moving my hand over two blocks. "This area is Empire territory and I think either a lieutenant moved somewhere around here, or they have some other point of interest. Either way, this is not an area for a cape to walk openly, unless you are either Empire, or looking to fight with them. So, it's a place to avoid."

"Are you sure?" Danny asked, interested. "I thought that area was ABB."

"Not according to Angela and Marcy. They live in the first area and told me that their mothers forbid them from crossing this street into this area because of the Empire. They told me they started saying this about three weeks ago."

"Who are Angela and Marcy?"

"A couple of kids," I replied with a smile. "Girl Scouts actually. I met Angela the day before I met you. Today they found me wandering around and that's when I met Marcy. I've been helping them get their Cookie CEO Badges."

"Really?" Danny asked, smiling proudly. "That's good to hear. Were you thinking of getting back into the program? I know I still have your old sash around here somewhere. You would be...an Ambassador now, if I remember right. One of the older kids who helped the younger ones or something like that."

"Not you too," I said, chuckling. Shaking my head, I explained, "Angela and Marcy have already tried talking me into taking over the troop. They spent the last half hour I was with them laughing about various ways I could stage a coup."

Chuckling himself, Danny said, "Well, getting back into it is something to consider. You used to be really into it. Well, before. And everyone should have a hobby that isn't larceny."

"Don't knock it until you've tried it," I replied smugly.

Sighing at my antics, which was ruined by his smile, Danny tapped the map with his finger. "You didn't get into the Docks much. Just this bit here?"

"Didn't have time," I said. "I had a meeting with a stylist and then I came home."

"Well, I know that here, here, and there we've had sighting of Empire gang members. Our guys hardly ever see the capes, but some of our work takes us into different territories. They usually leave us alone, unlike the ABB or the Merchants."

Making notes for those locations, I asked, "Do you remember where they were sighted? Anything with the last few months?"

"Ah," Danny said, half to himself, before pointing out several locations and naming which gangs were seen there.

As I was taking notes, Danny cautioned, "The problem with the Merchants is that they don't hold territory, per se. They're always moving around, or located deep into the abandoned sections of the Docks. Mostly leaving behind hopelessly addicted junkies and dealers for us to deal with. Now, I do know the Undersiders are somewhere in this area."

"Who are the Undersiders?" I asked, looking over the multi-block area Danny was pointing out.

"Local teen villains," he answered. "Mostly harmless, at least they've never given us any problems except for the occasional knocked down fence from one of Hellhound's giant dogs. It's because of the dogs that we have a rough idea that they are in this area. We're always repairing fences around there."

"Still a lot of area to consider," I noted. They sounded like indies I wanted to meet. A cape team that civilians thought were mostly harmless? That was something to work with. Still, in the end how they earned would make a difference on if they were worth contacting. "Do they hold territory? Protection, drugs, fencing, courier, muscle, thefts, or prostitution? I don't suppose you know their politics with the other gangs?"

"I don't know much, really," Danny answered, looking a little uncomfortable with my knowledge of gang activities. "I know they've been around for about a year. According to the newspaper they mostly rob businesses. They were credited with that software company downtown last month and I think they had something to do with a few others but I don't remember. I only know what I do because the guys keep mentioning the giant dog tracks going through our sites. Which would be there, there, there, and there."

"Amateurs," I mumbled to myself. For a moment, I thought there might have been something there. That was dashed the moment Danny said they left behind evidence which would point to a central base, much less led to news coverage with them credited. The sites Danny pointed out might still leave two full city blocks to search, but with the kinds of powers that were out there, that was a paper thin safety net. It was surprising the heroes hadn't already figured that out. Or worse, the local hardliner villains.

Still, might be worth checking out. Maybe Jess would know something?

"If you can think of anything else, let me know, please. This saves me days of work myself. I wasn't looking forward to exploring that area," I said while looking over Danny's additions. "Thank you for the information. With it I can concentrate more on the Boardwalk and Downtown areas next."

"That is still a lot of ground to cover," Danny hedged. "Were you planning on walking the whole city?"

"Eventually. Slow and easy is the key to this business, Danny," I replied knowingly. "I don't want to upset the apple cart, or gangs in our case, but I still need to stake my piece of things. To succeed, I need all the information I can get. Knowledge is everything in the game of capes and this city is very stingy, but I'm stubborn, so it equals out."

"But," I said, changing topics and giving Danny my full attention. "I'm sure that wasn't what you were wanting to talk about."

Sighing, Danny took a seat on an area of my bed I had cleaned off earlier. "No, it wasn't. First, I just wanted to apologize again for last night."

"I told you the last fourteen times you apologized, Danny, it's fine," I said reassuringly. "I understand, and I do."

"You just seemed very upset about it."

"At the time I was," I confirmed. I was actually still a little upset but... "But that doesn't mean I didn't, or don't, understand."

"I just don't want you to think it's always going to be like this," he stressed. "I honestly had no idea just how deeply I buried myself in my job until recently. It's been so routine since…"

"I know," I said, nodding solemnly. "Since I disappeared. I said I understood, and I really do. You were hurting, work helped. You are also very passionate about your work, very dedicated, which is something I also understand."

"I'm moving things around," Danny said. "My coworkers are not used to what they consider the 'extra work' but it has actually always been part of their jobs. Just, one more week, alright? It shouldn't take longer than that to get everything reshuffled."

"Danny, _really–!"_

"No. Look, I know this probably sounds like platitudes and bullshit, but I mean it. One week and I'll never be home past six again. I promise."

Dammit. When I was alone, before I'd met the Street Rats, and even for a long time while I was with them, I'd dreamed of someone wanting to be there for me like this. I was again struck by how much I'd missed. By how much had been taken from me.

How much better would my life had been, if I'd never lost my memories? I certainly wouldn't be here, stoically trying to hang on to my self-made identity. I'd remember which stuffed animals held value. Which pictures were worth remembering. Maybe have a boyfriend - or ex now - who didn't secretly want to take over everything I'd built...

"Thank you, Danny," I said, touched. What else was there to say, really? "But everything doesn't need to be about me, as flattering and proper as that is."

My joking tone earned me a chuckle from him before Danny continued. "Which brings us to the main reason for me coming up here. Other than seeing my daughter to apologize."

"Again. For the fifteenth time," I added helpfully.

"Right. So, do you remember when I told you about Emma and her family?"

"Of course."

"Well, the thing is, ever since I told Alan about finding you, they've been been hounding me, or us rather, to come over for dinner."

I nodded seeing where this was going. "But with your scheduled during the week, and us having so little time, you've put him off. I take it he knows you generally have weekends off?"

"My schedule really hasn't changed much in years," Danny agreed. "But yes, he does."

"He must have figured you were in today when no one answered the house phone then."

"Yeah, I'm apparently very predictable that way," Danny tried joking.

"Tonight?" I asked concernedly looking at the clock.

"That was what he was hoping when I talked to him earlier."

"This is rather short notice."

"Well, if we could make it, they wouldn't expect us until seven."

"That is my point. Short notice," I said, frowning. At best that would only give me a little under two hours to get ready.

"I can tell him not tonight, Renée."

"But this something you would like to do?"

Danny shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm not as close to Alan as I used to be. It's been a very long time since I've actually seen him. We talk once in awhile, maybe once a month or so. He was one of the people I told about finding you again when we got back.

"But we sort of had a falling out after Annette passed away, then you disappeared. Since then I've been fairly isolated aside from the union and, well, a few other places. But once upon a time, you were over at their home as often as you were here. Emma used to be your best friend. Once they were as much a part of your life as Annette and I was."

Well, that was a mixed bag. "You told them I've...changed? They understand that, right? That I don't remember anything from back then, yes?"

"Of course," Danny assured me. "I wouldn't put you in that kind of position, Renée."

"Good," I said, nodding. "I suppose this is one of those things we should sort out before too long."

"Not if you don't want to," Danny said earnestly. "I don't want you thinking I'm pushing you into something like this. I will admit that part of me hopes your memories might return if you were exposed to people and places that meant something to you back then. However not at the risk of what we're working on between us."

"And they are old friends of the family," I added knowingly. Thankful to hear of his consideration of our fragile connection. It was nice to know this wasn't one sided, even though I knew he was trying. "It would be wrong to disrespect them whether I remember them or not. Alright, but if we're doing this tonight, I need to start getting ready."

"It's just dinner at a friend's house, Renée," Danny chuckled.

"To you, maybe," I said shooing him out the room. "But this will be the first time I meet them and you do not get a second chance for a first impression. So, go. Get ready and be warned I'm taking over the bathroom in ten minutes."

Warned and banished, I opened my drawers and closet. Not having a comprehensive wardrobe for socializing on this level, I called the one - and only - person I could think of who knew enough about this stuff to make what I had work. Penny.

Following her instructions, as she knew my non working wardrobe better than I did, I laid out a pair of black knee boots, a pair of skinny jeans I set aside for times when I was in areas I needed to fit in while not being Gambit, and a plum peplum top to go over a body hugging black long sleeved shirt. From there, a quick shower, putting my contacts back in, drying and working my hair into something other than a tangled mess, and finally my makeup. Which proved to be slightly difficult as I wasn't trying to make myself look older, but my actual age. By the time all of this was done, Danny was long ready and pacing downstairs seemingly frustrated and amused at the time my preparations took.

Fixing an emerald and silver vine themed dangling earrings to my ears, I gave myself one last look in the mirror and deemed myself presentable. Really, I would have appreciated having more time to do something with my hair, but the clean pony tail and hair clip was about all the time I could give it. Finally, a bit of perfume from the hand-cut glass bottle, and I headed downstairs.

Danny was dressed about as I expected. A nice set of slacks, shirt and a striped tie that at least went with his outfit. His playfully exasperated look when he turned to me instantly changed. His mouth opened with whatever comment he meant to say, and stayed opened silently as I descended the stairs.

"Imagine what I could do if you gave me the proper time to get ready," I chuckled, reaching over to close his mouth for him.

"You...my God. Dressed like that you look so much like your mother," he finally whispered. "For a moment I could have sworn that was Annette walking down the stairs."

"Then she had good taste," I said, smirking. "But I can't take the credit. Most of my clothes were stuff Penny got for me that I never wore. Back in New Orleans I spent more time dressed as Gambit than I ever did as Renée."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Danny chuckled, seeming to get over his shock. "Did you get new contacts?"

"No, just tips from a stylist my lawyer put me in contact with. Are you ready?"

"Half an hour ago," Danny mumbled jokingly.

"Well, then, what are we waiting around here for?" I asked innocently. "We're going to be late if we don't leave soon."


	19. Settling In: Chapter 4

**Settling In Chapter 4**

"We can still cancel," Danny mumbled.

Rolling my eyes at his dramatics, especially as we just parked on the curb next to our destination, I said, "I'm pretty sure we can't as someone is watching us from an upstairs window."

Leaning over the wheel, and making it obvious he was looking, Danny said, "I don't see anyone."

"They're there," I chuckled. "Being sneaky. Or trying to be. Why are you so worried?"

"I just have a bad feeling about this," Danny replied, sighing as he leaned back. "I'm not sure why, but I do."

"We'll be fine, Danny," I assured him warmly. "You know my public backstory as well as I do. You wrote a good piece of it. I trust you and you can trust me that this isn't the first time I've played to a crowd."

Danny nodded, seemingly a bit reassured. "If you get uncomfortable at any time, we'll leave. Just tell me, and we'll go. No questions."

"Relax Danny," I said, chuckling. "It's like you said, it's only dinner and awkward questions."

"It's the last part that worries me, Renée."

Not commenting, I unbuckled my seat belt and exited Danny's car. Our window peeper vanished before I was done. The Barnes house was about what I would have expected. A nice two story building, two car garage, on a nice spacious plot. Especially for being inner city. Like most of the homes in this area, it was the kind of place that said, 'I have money and I live in comfort'.

I didn't need to see the security company name staked into the yard to know there was - at a minimum - four holes I could exploit if I wanted in. This was the kind of area where break-ins weren't something to worry about. So even if the camera coverage wasn't set up to just cover the obvious, it wouldn't take much.

"Stop planning on robbing them, please," Danny whispered jokingly.

"Why do you automatically think that's what I was thinking?" I asked archly, not allowing a hint of embarrassment or shame to show. "I could have just been appreciating the facade, the grounds, or flowers you know."

I let him stutter a few moments before I allowed my smirk to show. "Besides, it would be far too easy."

"You're evil," Danny groaned, realizing I was messing with him. "You did that on purpose."

"You're fun to wind up," I acknowledged. "But seriously, you don't have to worry about me. This is the kind of area I would hit if I needed a fast infusion of cash. Not for the challenge. The only challenge here is finding a fence connected enough to quickly move the merchandise. Have no fear, Danny, I'm nowhere near that desperate, and besides, it's not my style."

"Strangely, I actually find that comforting," Danny mused.

"See?" I said, smirking. "I can be good."

Shaking his head in exasperation, Danny led the way toward the front door. I continued to play with the idea of working the house as I followed. The hard part would be the furniture, if I wanted to really strip the place. Moving vans tend to attract attention, especially if the neighbors are friendly with the target. Then again, with a crew of maybe fifteen, I could probably easily get everything else of value. Assuming they had any art and such worth that many people being involved. And if I had the right fence.

Unless I used Jess...then I _could_ take the furniture and cut costs by not needing so many hands. Hmm….

Danny knocking on the door brought me back to the present in time for the door to open revealing an older woman. Tall, willowy in a way that made me think she spent a great deal of effort to keep herself just so. Long red hair falling past her shoulders looking recently styled and complemented her dress showing she knew her stuff.

She was pretty, in that arm candy kind of way. Something that didn't match the intelligence in her pale eyes as she looked at Danny. Nor her smile as it bloomed wide when those eyes rested on me.

Interesting.

For a moment, she just stared at us. Danny coughing seemed to bring her back. Shaking herself out of her introspection she instructed, "Come in, both of you, please."

"Thank you, Zoe," Danny said, taking off his coat. I did the same looking around while moving my deck of cards to my back pocket.

So far, the inside was what I was expecting. Everything looked well maintained and very nice. Some pieces had that name brand look to them. All of it artfully arranged in a manner that made me think they entertained on occasion. Made sense, since, Mr. Barnes was supposed to be a lawyer of some kind according to Danny. I'm sure that was something he would do in his social circle.

"It's been a while. How are you, Zoe?" Danny asked our hostess politely.

"Well, thank you for asking," Mrs. Barnes answered keeping her eyes on me the whole time.

Taking my jacket and hanging on the coat rack next to us, Danny got the hint Mrs. Barnes was giving and introduced us. "Renée, this is Zoe Barnes. Zoe, my daughter Renée."

"Renee…"

"I told Alan about this on the phone days ago," Danny said in a way that sounded like that was that.

"Oh. Right," Mrs. Barnes muttered, looking embarrassed. "I knew that, but I guess I just didn't think about it much."

"That's okay, Mrs. Barnes," I said, extending my hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you, um, Renee," she said, taking my hand and looking even more on the back foot. I wasn't sure if that was because of my accent, or the fact I commented on her house in a way that suggested I'd never been here before. Both were likely and clearly my name wasn't the only thing she hadn't really thought about after she found out I was back.

Well, if this was a prelude of things to come, this dinner certainly wouldn't be boring.

Mrs. Barnes led us into the sitting room but instead of the whole family, there was only an older girl.

"Anne, where's Emma?" Mrs. Barnes asked, obviously just as surprised.

Rolling her eyes, Anne shrugged. "Who knows with her any more."

She was obviously trying to keep her face placid as she turned toward us. "Danny, I'm sure you remember Anne. Taylor, sorry, I meant Renee, this is my eldest daughter, Anne. Anne, Renee."

"Bonjour."

My greeting caused both women to blink in surprise, obviously not expecting it. Danny, by contrast, could have been cut from stone for how much reaction he showed. Which told me he half expected it.

"Yes, well, Anne, where's your father?"

"Where else, his study," she answered.

"Of course he is," Mrs. Barnes sighed. "Danny, did you want to come with me to help pull him from his latest project?"

After looking at me and getting a smile, Danny nodded. "Sure."

"So," Anne said breaking the silence left in the wake of the adults exit. "New Orleans huh?"

Chuckling at her tone, I nodded.

"That had to be weird."

"It was all I knew," I replied easily. "Things are less weird when you can't remember anything prior to the first day. It just was."

"Yeah, I guess it would be like that," Anne said weakly, laughing self-consciously.

Deciding to rescue her from the foot in mouth issues she created for herself, I asked, "You are in college? I'm pretty sure it was you that Danny was talking about. Bay University?"

Grateful for the out, though looking a bit strange at my use of Danny's name, Anne nodded. "Yeah. Taking business classes. Or I will once I get the basics out of the way."

"I don't suppose you are taking geometry?" I asked.

"Not this year," Anne answered looking a bit thrown by my interest. "Why?"

"Sister Patricia only had a basic idea on it," I explained. "She taught various maths and when the sisters realized I had a talent for numbers, she taught me algebra. I picked it up pretty quickly, so she tried teaching me geometry too, but it wasn't very consistent. And she didn't know the material very well. I've tried self study for it, but it's a hard subject."

"Sister Patricia?"

"Yeah. She worked at the orphanage I ended up at," I answered easily from the backstory that Danny and I worked out. "It was run by Catholic nuns. Sister Patricia used to be an accountant before she joined the order and liked helping those of us who were interested with our numbers."

"Ouch," Anne winced. "That had to suck. Not the helping part, but the orphanage part."

I shrugged. "Compared to hiding behind garbage dumpsters so that creepers couldn't do things to me in my sleep, it was a palace. The nuns don't put up with that kind of thing. Especially Sister Mary. She was very…old testament about that stuff, you could say. Plus, it was warm there and they had food. It was everything I needed until I could fend for myself."

My comment seemed to suck the life out of the conversation. At least from Anne, which I found just a touch humorous. It was incredibly obvious she had absolutely no frame of reference nor any idea on what to say. I kept a friendly look on my face in the silence that followed. Hopefully that would put her at ease.

"Well, you seem to be doing much better now," Anne said after a long pause.

"I worked hard for it and Danny is very generous."

Thankfully a distraction in the line of someone walking down the stairs arrived. A teen about my age. Similar hair to both Anne and Mrs. Barnes fell in well maintained locks behind her. She was dressed in designer clothes. Each bit looking like something she just pulled from her closet, but was clearly arranged artfully to give just that impression. Even with the extra years, I easily recognized her from the pictures Danny showed me. Emma Barnes.

Emma continued to casually walk down the stairs toward us with her eyes locked on me. Outwardly looking causally happy to see me standing there, but that wasn't matched in her eyes.

In her eyes there was a completely different kind of strange mix going on. What, I couldn't tell except that everything about Emma screamed 'fake'.

Well, that was unexpected.

I could practically feel Anne watching next to me which was even more curious. I didn't comment on it though. Instead, I waited for Emma to say something.

"...Taylor?" she asked cautiously while continuing to observe me.

"Renée, actually," I replied habitually, keeping my placid smile in place.

"Renee?" Her butchering of the accent was almost cute. Would have been if I didn't suspect she did it on purpose.

"It sounds more like Renée, but yes," I replied knowing full well that wasn't want she meant.

"Why change names? Was there something wrong with Taylor?"

"Renée is the only name I've ever known," I answered. "I have no memories of being Taylor."

The girl didn't seem surprised, but she winced a little at that. I followed suit as I realized exactly what I'd just said. This girl had apparently been my best friend once. My _sister_ in all but blood. And I had just told her with absolutely no emotion, 'I have no memories of you'.

The way the girl recovered however, was astounding. The hurt quickly evaporated under a guise of calculation, and narrowed eyes.

That begged the question, why was she calling attention to my loss of memory? She had to know it would hurt her, and that I wouldn't be able to remember… so why?

I met the girl's eyes for a long while, studying her even as she studied me. Not like friends but like… competitors? Why would she do that to herself? She had no idea what she was getting into. No information, yet I could almost feel her preparing to leap.

I didn't understand, but I suppose I wouldn't. I'd never really had to understand loss. Just… _being_ lost. Maybe she just had to hear it for herself. I wasn't Taylor, and couldn't replace her. But even as I thought that, it didn't fit everything, and that bothered me because there was clearly something going on.

Next to us, Anne looked even more uncomfortable than she did when we were talking. So what was going on that I didn't know about? Anne obviously had an idea and being the only person who didn't wasn't a nice feeling.

Emma's assessing gaze practically screamed she was trying to figure something out, and somehow, I was centerpiece for a drama I wasn't even aware was playing. Which would have been unacceptable under most circumstances. Gambit thrived on drama. Especially if she was the center of it.

Pushing that thought from my mind lest I fall into old habits I didn't want shown in my civilian life, I turned to the approaching footsteps and voices coming our way.

"My God, you were right. She looks just like Annette," Mr. Barnes said the moment he saw me.

"I told you," Danny said smugly before turning to me. "Renée, this is Alan Barnes."

"Mr. Barnes," I said, greeting him with a smile. "Thank you for having us over tonight."

"No trouble, Renee. I was very happy when Danny said you could make it," he replied earnestly enough that I could almost believe it. Which was uncharitable of me, but Emma staring holes in the side of my head was making me paranoid.

Then again, he was a lawyer, so grain of salt and all that. I still smiled warmly as expected which prompted him to smile in return.

"Well, how about we go and see what Zoe cooked for us tonight?"

His question was met with general agreement, and we all filed into the dining room. I could feel Emma's eyes on my back the entire way.

You can tell a lot about people by how they set up for a meal. The little interactions that speak far louder than words about a group's dynamic. Letting myself fall back a bit, I took a moment to take them in.

Alan walked to the head of large table and immediately sat down, talking to Danny the whole way. Danny replied, carrying his half of the conversation but didn't immediately sit. Anne grabbed a large bowl of salad and a plate of breads before heading to the table, setting both in their places then taking her seat next to Mr. Barnes. Emma, like her dad, just walked to the table and took her place next to Anne while Mrs. Barnes disappeared into the kitchen.

Interesting, and more importantly, telling.

Following Mrs. Barnes, I entered the kitchen. "Can I help?"

"Oh, no dear. There's no need for that."

"I don't mind," I assured her smiling. "How about I take these two for you? Save you an extra trip."

Seeming a bit flustered, Mrs. Barnes nodded. "If you're sure, dear?"

Smiling, I picked up the dishes and headed back into the dining room. Ignoring the looks I received from the others, I set the dishes where Anne suggested and took the seat Danny pulled out for me.

"Thank you, Danny."

"You're welcome, Renée," he returned.

"Why don't you call him Dad. It's weird," Emma asked, pointingly. "He is your dad, right?"

"Emma," Mr. Barnes said in a warning tone.

Anne seemed to half expect it and rolled her eyes. Emma ignored them both, keeping her focus on me.

"A rather personal question," I said evenly. "But one I'll answer. Danny suggested it after we confirmed we were related. He felt that considering my amnesia, it would be easier on me as we rebuilt our relationship than forcing me into it."

"Sensible," Alan said in a tone that was clearly directed at Emma. "Very sensible."

Emma ignored her father's chiding, looking more thoughtful and confused than aggressive. The arrival of Mrs. Barnes partially dispelled the awkwardness.

Various foods were passed around among a clatter of plates, thank you's, and requests for one thing or another. Once everyone had their plates just the way they wanted them, we started eating. In between bites the expected questions came up from all quarters.

What was New Orleans like, how did Danny find me, what was the orphanage like, was I surprised to see him, and similar questions to sate their curiosity. Danny answered most of those he could with an aplomb that was, quite frankly, impressive. Those that he couldn't answer, I did, though my answers tended to make Danny smirk, or choke depending on when I caught him as I answered. Especially those questions that were asked about what I did during the last two years.

"You worked?" Mrs. Barnes asked, seemingly shocked.

"Of course," I answered easily. "The orphanage was run mostly by donations. Those of us too old to be adopted usually went out and found what jobs we could to support ourselves so the sisters could concentrate on those of us that couldn't. I helped Sister Patricia do their taxes this year and I know for a fact most of the donations came from us, those they helped get started. We couldn't do that without working."

"But you are too young to get a real job," Emma commented. I doubted anyone else but Danny caught her emphasis on 'real' but I did. "And you didn't have any ID."

"True," I casually threw back, not rising to the bait. "But there is always work for those who are willing to go look for it."

"So, what kind of work did you get into?" Anne asked knowingly. Ah, maybe we weren't the only ones to catch it.

"Room cleaning was popular with some of us," I answered. "With the local hotels, and if we were lucky, private homes. A good group were regulars doing that kind of thing and were very good at it. Pays well enough if you are quiet, fast, and never seen doing it. Then there was courier work. Running goods from one place to another. You would be amazed at how many people need items moved from one location to another, fast."

Ignoring Danny's choke, as I caught him eating this time, I continued. "My favorite though was working on the docks. Sometimes cleaning boats that hunted the bayou or gave tours. Sometimes I would skin gators. Gators paid more, but you had to be there when the hunters came in or you missed out."

"Seriously?" Anne asked, an amused and slightly awed look in her eyes. "You skinned alligators?"

"Only during the season, but yeah. People go out into the bayou, sometimes on a public hunt or sometimes by themselves. They get one and come in thinking they can handle it. But gators take some work to skin right. Thick hide, so you have to work the knife, just so. But I found that once they're hung up, it's easy work. Just messy," I explained confidently, turning to Emma as I finished. "It's not for everyone, but I never minded cutting open a body and rendering it down to parts."

Danny kicked my foot, clearly catching on to what I was doing. Keeping my expression polite and not giving anything away, I continued, "It pays very well, but again, only during the season. The rest of the time I had other jobs I would work. It wasn't anything for several of us to work multiple jobs a day. Bus boy, dishes, whatever we could find. If you're competent, management usually kept you in mind when they needed something doing. That was how I was supporting myself when Danny found me."

Which was all true, after a fashion, but where it really paid out was for when you needed an alibi. Being seen in public like that while a mystery was taking place did wonders for obfuscating a criminal investigation that was coming. Even if it was only people saying you were there doing it, and you pre-established that, yes, you did that kind of thing and had witnesses. But I didn't add that bit. I could tell Danny had the right idea though by the way he looked like he was holding in his laughter at how I was spinning the facts.

"That sounds like you had a nice system going," Mr. Barnes remarked respectfully. "Very creative problem solving. Especially considering all your handicaps."

"When Danny found me I was doing quite well. I had a regular business going," I said, smirking. "Very profitable."

Next to me, Danny licked his lips. For a moment, I almost thought I got him to lose it, but he held on, smiling proudly. Even still, I could see the light dancing in his eyes.

Thankfully for him, questions moved away from similar topics to the more mundane of how we were doing now, how I liked Brockton Bay - it was cold, which earned me a few chuckles - and other questions in the same vein. Before much longer, dinner was done and we headed back into the living room.

There it was suggested by Mr. Barnes that Emma and I might like some time to catch up and we could head up to her room. Surprisingly, Emma agreed and started walking right away as if she expected me to follow her.

I debated it a moment before doing so. I was curious what she would say when no one was around. She had that look to her that said she had something to say.

Anne didn't seem to like the idea but was pulled into a conversation with Danny and Mr. Barnes about something. I didn't catch what, as I was already heading up stairs.

It was decorated in a similar manner as the rest of the house had been, tastefully, and clearly with a theme I wasn't familiar with enough to place, but knew existed. Eventually, the silent tour ended with Emma going into a room I assumed was her bedroom.

It was...nice?

No stuffies or anything silly anywhere and everything had that 'in fashion' feel or look to it. Nothing really seemed like a permanent feature, except for the pictures. One poster of a band I vaguely recognized the name of, a nice scenic painting, a couple of family photos that looked more obligatory than wanted, and a lot of pictures of herself in various poses and outfits that looked professionally done. Each of them looking like they were blown up or taken from a magazine.

And Simmons called _me_ narcissistic? I should drag him here and show him the meaning of the word. Seriously, this room made me look downright humble.

Then some pieces fell into place. Emma's attitude, her questions, the way she looked at me. The strangeness started to make a little sense and my conclusions were not pleasant.

Crap. I used to be _that_ friend to Emma. Well, that was embarrassing. No wonder this was going so well.

While I was looking around, Emma closed the door, turning to face me. Her face a road map in conflicting emotions. I let her get her thoughts together and waited for her to say whatever it was that was eating her.

"So… How much of that downstairs was bullshit?"

"None," I answered, giving nothing away.

Smirking, Emma pressed, "So then how much of what _was said,_ wasn't all that there was?"

"Quite a lot," I replied honestly.

The girl deflated a little bit. Sort of sad, sort of wistful, but she was mostly brittle. "Yeah. Thought so."

Not exactly the… warmest, start to a conversation but this was going about how I expected it would. Kinda. Okay, not really, but it was progress of a kind.

"I'm… not sure what to say to you," I ventured. "You seemed to have had an opinion of me before I even stepped through the door. One that isn't stacking up."

"Taylor…"

"Renée."

"Stop that!"

"You seem a little hostile," I said blandly. "Would you like a moment?"

"Really. Hostile? Me!?" she snapped, then instantly her tone lightened again. "You know what? This is so not worth it. You don't even remember anything anyways. You wouldn't understand even if I used small words."

Passive aggressive much, Emma?

"Maybe, maybe not, but let me take a guess. You're angry that I left you. You're… probably angry that I can't be who I was before, and you're angry that you can't blame me for it, but you seem to be trying to anyway."

"Two out of three. Taylor is… _you_ are the past. You remind me of the stupid little girl I used to be. I am not that weak idiot anymore."

"I can see that," I agreed with a glare. "And just so you know, I didn't come here looking for a friend I don't remember. I came here for the chicken."

She blinked, surprised.

I shrugged, explaining, "Sorry if that came out wrong, _mon'amie._ It's not you. Whoever you remember me as, that person is gone. I don't remember them. I only know who I am. Who Renée is."

"I don't think it came out wrong at all," Emma said strangely. "Taylor was a relic. Much as I hate to admit it, she was a little dunce. Fun to be around, but weak. Easily broken when life got tough. Then she abandoned me, when I needed her most. Apparently it wasn't your – her – fault, but that doesn't change what happened. I had to make it without her. I… outgrew her. But then again, maybe you did too."

It took considerable effort not to snort as I gazed at the expensive looking handbags and shoes. But then, what did I know about her life? The wealthy had their own burdens, even if they rested so much lighter on their shoulders.

Though being called a relic, even if I don't remember being Taylor, didn't sit well with me. Everything I learned about Taylor so far pointed to a dependable, intelligent girl that I would have loved to have as a friend. Loyal, hard working, smart, and definitely cut above most.

But all that was from Danny, who was obviously biased. Still...

"I didn't outgrow anyone," I replied flatly. "I just don't remember being the person you describe."

"Then you're lucky," Emma said surely. "Whatever you went through in New Orleans, isn't something Taylor would have survived."

"It's not something a lot of people could survive," I said. "Doesn't matter who you are talking about. I know several who didn't, but should have."

"That's...that's the way it is, though," Emma said sounding almost like she was trying to convince herself. "Shit happens. The weak don't make it, the strong survive. That's how it works."

I stared at her for a few seconds. I blinked. I stared for a few more moments trying to wrap my head around what she said.

"What idiot sold you on that lunacy?"

Emma glared.

I glared harder. "I've been kicking the shit out of people far stronger than I am for over two years. Let me tell you something; how tough you are means nothing on the streets. Everyone's vulnerable to something. Doesn't matter who you are or how strong you think you are. There's always a bigger gator in the bayou."

The girl snarled, "You're wrong. People who are truly strong can survive anything. I know. I'm a survivor."

How the fuck did we end up in a philosophical debate about…?

"You can't be this stupid," I mumbled. Not quietly enough for her not to hear though judging by her reaction. "If you were my best friend, maybe Taylor _was_ the girl you described."

"What the hell does that mean?" Emma practically shouted.

"By your inane ideas, if I dropped you in New Orleans, right now, and took all your memories you'd be just fine and dandy?"

"I'd find a way," Emma said glaring at me. "You managed it. If Taylor could do it, I definitely could. "

"But not because you were _strong_. Not with that attitude. Maybe, _maybe_ you'd get lucky and a nice druggy would let you live with a newfound humility after he beat you senseless or worse. That attitude of yours doesn't make a survivor, it makes a user. Users get by for a while, sure. They even do alright while they're on top, but without exception, like all tyrants, they end up getting dethroned by someone sooner or later."

"I am not a tyrant!"

"You act like a petty, spoilt rich girl who's had everything handed to her," I said honestly and without any emotion. "On the streets I've been on for the last two years, if I acted like you, I never would have made it. I'd have starved to death long ago."

I wasn't actually sure what to expect when I'd first came here tonight but apparently I'd finally run into the first mess Taylor had left behind for me to clean up. Her best friend had broken somehow, and whoever had fixed her had done a terrible job. Whoever this was, wasn't anything like Danny described.

My little rant seemed to take the fire out of her for the moment, I used it to continue. "I made connections that saved me. _Saved. Me._ I'm strong, don't you dare doubt that. Cross me, and I'll happily beat you into a hospital but without those people who had my back, I never would have made it."

"Yeah? You think you're so tough? Prove it."

I ignored her. "But there were days when I'd have traded all that strength in a heartbeat for people like Sam, Penny, and people like Danny. Everything else was… meaningless. What does it matter if you can break a nose if you're all alone?"

The girl stopped, staring at me as if I'd just told her the sun was overrated.

"How," Emma scoffed weakly, almost as if she wasn't even sure why she was doing it. "How the hell did you get by thinking like a weakling. You don't act like a survivor."

Suddenly it clicked. "You haven't even tried to befriend me…" I muttered, more to myself than her. "Just tried to figure out how this is going to fit into your worldview. It isn't. That you consider people a weakness, makes you one of the saddest people I've ever met. I hope you feel justified in your strength when you're all alone."

She found her own conviction quick and I could almost see her psyching herself up for her next point. She looked at me with the same disdain that I was sure I was giving her. "Strength is _all_ that matters! The strong don't need anyone. _I_ don't need anyone. Certainly not _you!"_

"I'm not asking for you to want me, much less need me," I returned casually. "To be honest, you would just drag me down."

Emma reeled back as if I had slapped her.

"You don't get it," I said, shaking my head. "And I don't really care about you enough to force you to see."

I got up and made to leave the room.

"W-wait! Where are you going? You can't just _leave!"_

"And why not, _ma chère?"_ I asked allowing my amusement at her antics to show. "Will the tyrant demand that I stay and feed her ego? Goodbye Emma. It has _not_ been a pleasure. Talk to me when your madness has passed. Until then, good luck, _survivor._ "


	20. Settling In: Chapter 5

**Setting In Chapter 5**

Parking in the driveway then turning the engine off, Danny sighed.

Deciding to break the awkward silence, I turned to him saying, "Those mash potatoes were so creamy."

Meeting my eyes, Danny cracked the first smile I'd seen on his face since I told him I had a headache and we left the Barns house. "They were, weren't they?"

Sighing again as he turned away, Danny said, "So I take it your talk with Emma didn't go very well?"

"She's," I said, pausing as I tried to find the right way to put it. "Not what I expected."

"Oh?"

"I would imagine you don't need to be an amnesiac for a person to change," I said slowly as I formulated my thoughts. "But she seemed, strange, I guess would be the word. Not like you described to me."

"How so?"

"Emma seemed more interested in trying to figure out how me being back was going to affect her world and less on that I was back," I answered. "Unlike the others. You never said if I knew Anne very well from before, and I don't think that's the case by how she was acting. I can't imagine that my relationship with Emma's big sister would be better than the one I had with Emma. But Anne seemed genuinely glad to see me again. As did Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. It's an interesting contrast to how Emma acted."

"That is strange," Danny agreed, frowning as he digested my words. "I vaguely remember Alan saying something a few years ago about a car accident he and Emma were in, but not the details. He never mentioned it again. Or if he did, I don't remember it. I was rather busy trying to find you at the time. Maybe the accident rattled her and she's still struggling to get over it?"

Nodding at the points raised, and those that weren't, I said, "A car accident might explain a few things."

"I can ask Alan, if you liked."

"It's not really that important," I assured Danny. "Honestly, whatever's wrong with Emma isn't going to change just because we look into it. She said she 'outgrew me' so maybe just leaving it alone would be best. It's not like either of us are missing anything if we do."

"Harsh, but I can see what you mean," Danny said reluctantly.

"I'm not saying you should avoid your friend, Danny. Not on my account."

"Well, Alan and I have grown apart ourselves," Danny admitted. "We're a long way from college and his world is very different than the one I live in. Different social circles."

"Up to you, Danny, but don't give up on a good friend just because real life has gotten in the way. Make some time for him, maybe you will find your old friend in there waiting for you."

"And when did you become the Mistress of Advice?" Danny asked playfully.

Smiling at him, I adopted a haughty tone, raising my nose into the air. "I have always been knowledgeable. You are only just now realizing how far my talents reach. Do not be so surprised and have no fear, _mon cher._ I ask for nothing but that you bask in my brilliance, as is proper of a henchman."

Danny threw back his head and laughed which broke my composure and had me laughing with him. After a moment he shook his head. "Well, it could have gone worse..."

My phone chimed. Curious at who was texting me this late, I took a look, and saw that it was a message in code from Jess.

Sighing, I smiled apologetically at Danny. "I have to work tonight."

"Renée…"

"Relax, Danny. A friend needs me for a meet and greet with the Undersiders. One of them apparently found a way to contact them through their PHO account. They are not amused," I assured him, with little success. "They think it's a recruitment pitch, and one that's already gone badly. My friend just wants me there in case they don't like the word, 'no'."

His face was so conflicted, I couldn't get a read on him. After several long moments, Danny asked softly, "And if I was to ask you not to do this?"

"That would...put me in an awkward position," I answered vaguely, but honestly hoping that this wasn't going to be the issue it was looking like.

Nodding, Danny whispered, "I'm just worried about you, kiddo."

"I know," I said, leaning over to put my hand on his shoulder. "It's very sweet of you but I can take care of myself. I've been doing this for a while."

"I know. When we were in New Orleans, after we saw Bennie, I talked a lot with Sam and Penny while you were away," Danny stated, looking out into the night in a way that made me wonder if he was even seeing any of it.

"Sam had questions about the Bay, and I had questions about the kind of things you guys did. Penny told me about the orphanage you guys helped to keep kids out of the Street Rats. I know about all the effort you have gone through to help people either stay away from that life, or keep them out once they had an option for better while employing those who liked doing the kind of work you were doing."

I let Danny gather his thoughts and say what he had on his mind. It was obviously something that had been bothering him for a while.

I knew about the talks, of course. I had to be in a lot of places making sure the right people went to ground after meeting with Simmons. The whole thing was actually Penny's idea. Both to spare me from having to do it, and to give Danny a different perspective than my usual explanations. Sam went along with it to gauge Danny's reactions. He respected Danny a lot, but I think part of Sam would always be distrustful of anyone who wasn't a part of the Guild. In a lot of ways, I couldn't say I blamed him for it.

"Sam told me, reluctantly mind you, about some of things you did that you didn't like. The...hard choices that come from that kind environment."

"Danny," I tried to say but stopped when he held up his hand. He continued when I nodded.

"They were choices you shouldn't have had to make. But you did, and I know from personal experience that those kinds of choices take something from you. I...know something of the temptation that is in the cape world. What this life can be like, if one was to let it become their everything. I just wanted to say, Renée, that I was so very proud of how you handled it all. It's not everyone who can walk a line that thin and still be the wonderful girl you were when you found me."

I blushed, feeling both the weight of his words and the expectations that had never really been there before. He wasn't done, though.

"I might not like how you choose to help people, but I can respect that in a world without options, you did something special. You are something special. Just, promise me something?"

Leaning away to give him my full attention, I nodded. "If I can."

"This city," Danny stated, seemingly to gauge each word spoken as he did. "It's not like New Orleans. For whatever reason, it's a hard city where hope is a fragile commodity that people are afraid to have. I've seen cape teams and empires rise and fall. In the last twenty years there have been a lot of people who've tried to help, even succeeded to some degree, then were either wiped out, or gave in to the life and started doing horrible things just to keep their little piece of it. I've seen this place take good people, and ruin them. Slowly at first, but it happens. Please don't let the cape life do that to you? I...I don't think I could handle losing you again."

"That… that I can promise, Danny."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

The nights were thankfully getting warmer, but it was still not to my tastes. Sitting on a cold unused bit of machinery on an open airy rooftop, was less so. At least the sky wasn't overcast and I could see a few stars. Well, the really bright ones. The city offered way too much light pollution to really see anything, but I'd take what I could get.

Looking at my pocket watch showed there was still a few minutes before the Undersiders were due to arrive. Pacing, Circus muttered curses in their own unique style to pass the time. They seemed to be working themselves up to something truly epic by the few phrases I could hear.

Adjusting myself to a more comfortable position, I stayed in the shadows away from the main action. I was just here as backup. Circus said that one of them - Bitch, but I wasn't sure if that was just them being colorful or that was actually what she preferred to call herself - had a tendency to maim people she didn't like. Which was most people according to Circus.

The sound of loud huffing and nails on stone brought both of our attentions to the west and the three large shadows bounding through the night toward us. Checking my watch again, I nodded respectfully. Right on time.

The three shapes turned out be three giant demonic mounts. Bulging muscles, mouths full of sharp teeth, and bone spikes jutting from their bodies shone in the limited streetlight from below, and the moon above. Our silent wait was broken by their heavy breathing, low growls, and snarls.

Add impressive entrance to the list. It was hard not to like a bit of showmanship. Not bad.

One dog carried two riders, the other two carrying one apiece. The first down was a guy dressed in black leathers, smoke boiling around him in a nice horror movie way. What I first thought was just a cloud of pitch darkness around his head showed what looked like a skull hovering in the black smoke. His costume did a lot for obfuscating his mass but I couldn't help but like what I could see. Had to admire a guy who took care of himself, and this Grue obviously took his fitness seriously.

Next was his passenger, a girl dressed in a skintight black and lavender outfit that made me wonder if it was something she put on, or poured herself into. Once her feet were on the roof, I could see the stylized eye on her chest, prominently placed in a way that one couldn't look at it and not also notice her modest bust. Which had to be intentional. Her look was complete with a simple domino mask that covered her eyes and upper face. Tattletale, according to Circus's information.

Regent was the most flamboyant of the team, and the least objectionable according to Circus, if only because he was the most honest about himself. He was third down and looked like a guy right out of a renaissance fair, complete with leggings and a loose open shirt that made me think he got his outfit ideas from the covers of bad romance novels. Sadly, Fabio he was not. Far too scrawny to pull it off, not that it seemed to bother him any judging by his swagger. Unlike his companions, his colors were mostly white, with a powder blue vestment. A full face mask that would have been right at home during Carnival, also white with gold bordering. He completed his look with a silver coronet around his head, and a scepter, of all things.

Last, and certainly the most reluctant of the new arrivals, was Bitch, with a cheap dime store rottweiler mask covering her face. No real costume unless you counted the fatigue jacket she always wore and her ripped jeans. Big girl, or rather, mannish I would suppose. She definitely looked strong enough to give Grue a run for his money. Then again, she controlled giant mutant things, so that made quite a bit of sense.

"Circus," Grue greeted my friend. "I'm Grue, this is Tattletale, that's Bitch, and last, and certainly least, is Regent."

"Fuck you, Grue," Regent said lazily without any real heat.

Ignoring his teammate, Grue continued, "Thanks for coming."

"Nice to fucking meet you assholes. So, which one of you fucks thought it was funny to message me on a fucking public forum?" Circus asked in their usual blunt manner.

Grue turned slightly to Tattletale, which was answer enough. Unrepentant, Tattletale shrugged. "You were hard to contact. It was the only channel I could find."

"Ever think I didn't want to be contacted, bitch?"

 _Well, this was going well,_ I thought while keeping an eye on things. Still, it would have been nice if Circus didn't decide to open with hostility. It made these kinds of thing so awkward.

Tattletale shrugged again, smirking as she replied, "How else would we get in contact with you to discuss financially profitable ventures?"

"You don't," Circus answered. "Because if I wanted to work for you, I'd have come to _you_."

"With us. We want you to work _with_ us. It's a sweet gig..."

"And I don't want to work with a bunch of worthless assbags," Circus cut in, anger bubbling over and sounding surprisingly weird coming from her demented clown costume. "Much less a bunch of snot nosed assbags. We're done here. Contact me again, and I'll ass fuck you hard enough you'll never get your virgin cheeks to clench again."

"Well that's just bad manners. You haven't even heard our proposal yet."

"You fucking contacted me on a public forum. A place where any tech savvy cunt can fucking track me. I don't care how smart you _think_ you are, from a recruitment standpoint, you're a goddamn idiot!"

Watching Tattletale I easily noted her eye twitch at Circus's comment. So, she didn't like slights to her intelligence then. Interesting.

"Just for the record, I really don't like it when people say I'm stupid," Tattletale said smoothly, confirming my thoughts on that little quirk. "And you are seriously undervaluing what we could offer. Like I said before, it's a sweet gig. Protection in numbers, access to your very own psychic and lots of money. What would you say to forty gees? Hmm? That was our take for the last job we pulled. Free and clear, clean bills."

"Why the fuck are we still here?"

"Bitch," Grue growled warningly. Bitch huffed, folding her arms, clearly unimpressed.

Stepping forward, Grue turned his attention to Circus. "Just hear us out, alright?"

"Make it fucking quick. I got shit to do that isn't standing on a rooftop listening to pimply fucktards who can barely wipe their own asses."

Nodding, Grue made his pitch. His voice sounded unexpectedly normal from his intimidating mask, aside from a slightly haunting quality that was actually neat. He had to have practiced that. I would have. "Two large a month, just for being on the team. Even split in the take after we run it through the cleaners, which we have connections for."

If anything, Bitch seemed to bristle even more staring holes into Circus in a way that spelled nothing good.

"A five way split?" Circus scoffed. "Why the fuck would I care about than when I can keep all the money I earn?"

"Makes a good point," Regent casually said. "I'm kinda of wondering why we want the potty mouth anyways."

"Regent's right," Bitch half snarled.

"I am?" he asked sounding pleased. "You know, in a year, I think that's the first time any one of you has ever agreed with me."

"Shut up," Bitch said while staring at Grue.

"Oh good," Regent mimed, wiping his brow. "For a second there, I thought it was the End of Days."

Sighing in familiar frustration, Grue turned his back on the two of them, looking at Circus. "Enough, Bitch. You were outvoted. Think about it Circus. More hands, bigger and better jobs. An even say in the jobs we pull or don't. More than money, we're offering a team. A team that will have your back. We all know how this city is."

Tattletale took that moment to purposely look right at me. Eyes narrowed darting back and forth between Circus and I. A bit late, but still, a good catch, as I had yet to move. Her brow furled, as if she was thinking hard. Whatever it was about, she seemed to instantly take a disliking to me.

"Maybe to snack on my ass," Circus shot back. "And not in the way I like it. You fucks can't even decide if you want me on the team, and you expect me to trust you assholes with my rep or to not throw me under a bus? Fuck you."

Grue nodded as if he expected Circus to say that, but before he could say anything, Bitch did. "I already said I don't want this shit. Brutus…!"

"Don't…!" Tattletale shouted too late.

My playing card struck Bitch in the throat, sending the heavy girl to the ground, coughing. Stepping out of the shadows, I smiled, holding up my hand, showing the five burning cards held within.

"Don't worry," I drawled, pulling all attention to me. "I have a card for each of you."

Circus stood ready, sledgehammer draped over their shoulder. Circus's lack of surprise was easily noted by the Undersiders. The beasts all growled, standing protectively over Bitch while Grue held up his hands clearly not wanting things to escalate.

"Enough!" he shouted, stepping in front of his fallen teammate. "Who the hell are you?"

"You can call me...Gambit," I replied.

Grue's helmet turned to Tattletale for a moment before facing me again. "You're working with Circus?"

"Just insurance against hostilities," I replied. "Circus seemed to think that after the last two people you tried recruiting got mauled, it would be prudent."

"What did you do to Bitch?" Grue snarled. It sounded more frustrated than angry as he looked from the downed cape, then back to me.

"Not as much as I could have," I answered honestly. "She was about to break a truce."

"What about you, gambler girl?" Tattletale asked, completely ignoring the tension everyone else was feeling. "Looking for a team?"

"No thanks," I answered. "I generally try to avoid working with people who don't hold to courtesy truce rules."

Growling, Bitch made to stand up, but before she could get more than a knee under herself, Grue put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Just a misunderstanding…"

"Obviously," I drawled. "Which was why I only paused her, instead of put her down."

"Yeah, I can see where you would be a real stickler for that kind of thing," Tattletale interrupted. "But I would have thought you would be interested in getting back in the game, considering how badly things went for you down south."

Keeping an amused expression on my face, I gave Tattletale most of my attention.

"Tattletale," Grue growled. "Not the time."

"I don't know, she's got me curious," Regent chuckled. His voice lazy and overplayed as he continued. "Tell us, o psychic one, the dirty secrets of our new friend."

"Psychic?" I asked playfully. "Do you tell fortunes? It's been a while since I've had my fortune read."

That seemed to be enough as Tattletale started talking, eyes glued to me as if she was looking for something.

"Fortune reading is for fakes," Tattletale snarked. "I'm the real deal."

If anything my smile widened. She was pretty good to say that with a completely straight face. It was almost believable. Then again, maybe she could read me. With powers, who knew?

"Heard your entire network got taken down recently. A nice setup that must have taken a long time to build. Whole groups of people and locations. All gone. Bad luck."

"I had a network?" I asked playfully, turning to an equally amused Circus. "I wasn't aware I was such an enterprising person. It's going to ruin my image as a degenerate gambler when word gets out."

Circus chuckled, though that was the only sign of amusement.

"Also heard several rumors that you ran away from the crackdown," the blonde cape pressed intently. "That you got sloppy on a job. So much for that master thief thing you had going, right?"

My answering chuckle seemed to only egg her on. That tic in her eye as she stared at me was getting worse, as was her tone as she continued.

"So, now you're in the Bay. Going to start over? Not sure how much confidence people are going to have in someone who let their entire team down. Then bailed when it all went to shit. Maybe you should join a real team. One who've never messed up a job. Might learn something."

It was everything I could do to keep my laughter in and only show a small smile at her barrage. Okay, so maybe she couldn't read me. Still, she knew of me, which was in itself interesting. Some of my amusement over the situation must have bled through as the talking villainess' eyes narrowed. Only for a moment, then she smirked.

"Especially with that accent," Tattletale said, a vulpine grin on her face. Obviously anticipating the moment I would crack. "Pretty strong. Not many people in New England with a cajun accent. Especially someone who recently moved here at the same time as a cape with the same accent. I bet it makes having a civilian ID hard to keep."

Oh, she really went there?

"Looking a little puffy around those devil eyes. A bit...rough. Makeup only gets you so far, yeah? Contacts for day time? Contacts you're not used to wearing regularly. Pretty flimsy disguise if that's all you're doing. I bet you don't even do anything with your hair. Amateur mistakes, but I guess that makes sense considering everything else you've screwed up."

Yeah, she actually went there. Tattletale obviously didn't like being ignored. Either that, or whatever she hoped to gain by rattling me wasn't working. Either way, this was quickly entering forbidden territory and becoming personal.

"I would have expected more effort considering the interest in you recently," Tattletale finished looking very smug. "Not exactly trying to hide the fact you moved to town. Walking around openly and hosting poker games? It's almost like you want to get caught."

Whatever victory she thought she had died when I turned to Circus. "Pizza at God Mom's?"

"Scrambled eggs at the Hard Luck," they replied smoothly.

"I like eggs," I agreed, turning away.

Letting the sledgehammer vanish, Circus backflipped to the edge of the roof, doing a one handed handstand so they could flip off the Undersiders, completing their exit by flipping down and out of sight.

Shaking my head at their antics, I leapt off the roof, grabbing the light pole across from me, sliding down. A sharp laughter, which I as sure belonged to Regent, cut the night. It cut off abruptly and a look back as I was sliding showed me that Grue had covered the rooftop in his power, blocking all sight of the villains we had left behind.

I suspected he did it more to avoid letting others see the chewing out he was about to give his little motormouth than to hide their exit. I couldn't see enough of him to really gauge his reaction to Tattletale's stunt, but that was what I would have done. But then again, I what did I know about their team dynamic? For all I knew this was how they operated.

I did know one thing, uncontrollable thinker powers or not, I was going to have to do something. Something to show them that the rules existed for a reason and that they weren't meant to be trod on, even a little bit. To do that, my response would need to be equally...dramatic.

Smirking as I followed Circus to their jeep, I felt pretty sure how I was going to do that. It would also kill two birds with one stone, and who didn't love a plan that covered multiple problems?


	21. Settling In: Chapter 6

**Settling In: Chapter 6**

The Hard Luck was a typical dive one could expect from an all night diner. Nice enough, but understaffed even for the fact it wasn't midnight yet. What people there were here fit the bill for the place's name. Rough looking types whose only desires were coffee, food, and to be left alone.

So when two capes walked in - and wasn't that a set up for a joke - it wasn't really surprising that people looked, then turned back to their plates. We picked a table away from most and ordered when our poor waitress gathered her courage to walk over to us.

I took little notice of the waitress as she studiously avoided conversation with us as much as possible. The eyes of the few late night patrons brave enough to glance at us were as if we were some sort of disease they would catch if we got too close.

Danny was right. This city chewed on a cape's sanity, little by little. From what I've seen, heroes were - unsurprisingly - generally treated like rockstars or ignored. Villains got the short stick, being treated either like bile that had marinated in the summer sun or outright feared to the point of shaking. Unknown capes were regarded with open suspicion or hatred. There was no middle ground. Frankly, it seemed the best a villain could possibly hope for was mild disdain like Uber and Leet received. More and more I was certain that their incompetence was intentional. Hell, both acted far smarter than I gave them credit for during the game.

But there weren't many _rogues_ here. While I was _technicall_ y a villain good enough to _pretend_ to be a rogue, as far as anyone else knew, I _was_ a rogue. Hopefully it would just take some time for people to get used to me. Just had to stay the course, bear it out until people realized I wasn't going to suddenly go nuts and blow up everything.

Thankfully, our plates arrived in record time. I wasn't really hungry, more peckish, but the eggs really were good. Surprisingly so.

Obviously sharing none of my inner thoughts, Circus dug into their plate with gusto, quickly demolishing everything as if it was the first meal they had in a long time. On seeing me lost in thought, picking at my own food, Circus snorted.

"I can't believe you let that little twit get to you."

Smiling at their mulish tone, I shook my head. "Of course not, _mon'ami_. But I am curious, is Tattletale always like that?"

"She's a bitch," Circus said casually. "More so than her butch teammate. At least dog bitch is fucking honest about how much she hates everyone. Tattletale fucking thinks she knows everything. God damn annoying is what she is. Ask Faultline. She can't stand her either."

"Huh."

Stabbing a bit of onion and egg, Circus smiled. "Actually, we should do that."

"Ask Faultline about Tattletale?"

"No, go to her nightclub, Palanquin. Sits on top of the hill about two streets down from Lords Street. Pretty popular place if you're looking for hot music, decent booze, and to have a good time. Live local bands weekdays, popular dance music most nights, and all that. Place is always jumping, even on weekdays. Saturday night is crazy there. I'll go in drag, you can pick up a guy, I'll find whatever looks tasty."

Rolling my eyes at their trolling, I smirked, "We're all born naked. Everything else is drag."

"See? You get it. It'll be fun."

"It might be," I agreed half intrigued. "Tourist trap?"

"Not like you would think," Circus counted. "Faultline's got stuff all over the city, but Palanquin is her baby. Sure, tourists show up but it's a hot nightclub not the Boardwalk. Faultline doesn't cater to them, unlike a bunch of other fucking places in this city. Also, you never know when having mercenary connections will come in handy."

"True," I half agreed. "Where does she stand in the scheme of things in the bay?"

"Neutral. Got a her own code and shit. Do anything if the price is right, but prefers to work outside of the Bay. Doesn't like getting mixed up in the drama around here but will if paid enough to make it worth it. I like her, makes no bones about where she stands. Nothing personal, just looking to get paid. I can respect that."

"Interesting. Solo or does she have a team?"

"She's been collecting Case 53's," Circus informed uncaringly. "Her whole team is made of capes with the worst possible hand, but she makes it work. Several of them have weak ass powers, but I'll say this about Faultline, she's a fucking tactical genius and her people follow orders well. They tangled with the Triumvirate last month and actually came out on top. Got her job done too."

"Impressive," I said. And it was; that put Faultline in a league far above my usual level as I avoided tangling with the heavies. "Case 53's huh?"

"Yup."

"Not sure what I would need mercenaries for, but it doesn't hurt to make connections. I wonder if her people would be interested in employing couriers?"

"Couriers?"

"Yeah. I used to run a small band of them for a couple Case 53's and other interested parties back home," I explained thoughtfully as I played with the idea in my mind. "Whatever they wanted so long as it was legal and wouldn't get the runner in trouble."

"Like what?" Circus asked looking more than a bit confused.

"Whatever they wanted. Groceries, deli, fast food, stuff for their car, furniture, coffee, whatever."

"People actually paid money for a gofer?"

"For a no questions gofer, yes," I replied. "They told them what they wanted and where to take it. My people did, no questions. Cash per transaction. Has to be someone in this city looking for some easy money to run supplies. I could probably oversee it well enough until I found someone to take over. Legal work, and it would be a good startup business that wouldn't step on anyone's toes. You'd be surprised how often capes need random stuff but don't want to go out and get it."

"Chump change," Circus scoffed.

"You can't put a price on good will," I counted knowingly. "Also, it would put me in a good position to ask for and give favors. Some things are worth more than money. Also, you're over using that phrase tonight."

Nodding, Circus mumbled, "Good point. Still not going to bankroll as much as you would a good poker night, unless you're doing the running."

"Of course not, but it will work well enough for what I want out of it. More importantly, it shouldn't cost much to maintain. Practically all profit not to mention the good will. Easy work for a guy or girl in between things with rent due. This city has… a lot of those. It's kind of sad."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Fuck, I'd hate to be a hero in this town. Practically the only thing heroes get out of their shitty gig is goodwill and Brockton doesn't have much of that to give to anyone."

As if summoned, the bell at the door rang and two costumed heroes walked in. Wards. Clockblocker was easy to guess since the name was particularly as memorable as his costume. Unfortunately, while I'd done preliminary research on the heroes in Brockton, the other hero's armor wasn't enough for me to identify him. Gallant, or Kid Win maybe? I was pretty sure both had power armor.

However, figuring out which the second one was took a backseat to the fact that both turned to look right at us.

"Fuck," Circus cursed.

"Tell me you're not wanted for something, Circus," I asked without moving my lips.

"Er…I don't think so?"

"Fuck," I cursed with her as the two made a beeline straight for us.

"Hellllooo, ladies and gentle…beings," Clockblocker greeted merrily, looking from me to Circus, his faceless mask still showing a surprising amount of emotion somehow.

The poor manager looked as if he was about to shit a brick behind the counter. The last thing any employee wanted was a cape fight to go down where they got their pay. Hopefully, this didn't turn into something like that.

"Uh… ain't it past your bedtime, pipsqueak?" Circus asked.

I groaned. _Here we go..._

"If it were, then surely it's past Gambit's," the boy in the power suit said. I instantly categorized him as Gallant. There was no way that voice belonged to someone who had named themselves 'Kid Win'. Far too...not cultured, but definitely the voice of someone who put a lot of effort into how they talked.

Circus surprised me, and probably herself, by laughing at the joke. "Point there. What can we do for you? And please tell me you're not here to arrest me. I mean, fuck, the least they could do is send an adult. This is almost insulting! Ah, no offense, Gamby!"

"Ignore Circus," I said, indicating the cape in question. "You have to treat Circus like you would a gremlin. No food after midnight, or they turn into a very raunchy perverted evil creature."

"That hurts, Gambit."

"It's true, and you'll live, _chérie_."

"Seems like you're cutting it close there," Clockblocker chuckled, pointing at the clock which showed it was just a few minutes till midnight.

"I'm more curious why you would think we should arrest you, Circus was it?" Gallant asked pointingly.

"Oh, people are always suspecting me of heinous things!"

I nodded sympathetically, which was easily noted by both heroes.

"I swear," Circus continued. "You get your own little pocket of holding and people _always_ think you're using it for something nefarious! I mean, can't a person just like having their stuff close to hand?"

"Very unfair," I agreed, playing along. "It's almost as if they expect that you're hiding something just because you _can_."

"I know right?"

"Are you?" Gallant asked bluntly.

"Out of sheer curiosity," Circus asked, completely ignoring Gallant's inquiry, "would a warrant give a hero or cop the right to search other dimensions owned by capes? Is that even a thing?"

Both heroes blinked. It was impressive how you could _tell_ that Clockblocker blinked even though his face was completely covered. Seriously, that mask was cool.

"No actually," I replied smoothly. "There's no pre-existing judgments on dimensional storage powers that I know of. I know it's illegal in the United States to open pathways to other dimensions, but surprisingly there is little on actual storage space or pocket dimensions. They can ask you, but so far there hasn't been any court cases where it's come up. It's a pretty uncommon power outside of tinkers."

"Then _definitely not."_

Gallant frowned. Clock snorted.

"Ah… were you… expecting company?" came a very tentative question from our waitress. "Could I get you two anything to drink?"

"We weren't _expecting_ company, but if you'd like to join us we wouldn't be averse," I said before asking, "would we Circus?"

"Bitch, you just want eye candy while you eat."

Turning to both Wards, I took a moment to look them over. Gallant didn't do much for me, though that had more to do with his attitude than physical appearance that I could see. Clockblocker wasn't bad, anyone thin enough to pull off a body suit and not look stupid wouldn't be, but not quite eye candy level. He did have a sense of humor though, and I had to admit, getting that name past the PRT was something I could respect.

"Ahh, should warn you about that," Clockblocker said impishly. "Gallant is about as taken as it gets. Even when he's not taken, he's taken. So for him, it's look but don't touch. Buildings have been damaged for less."

Circus snorted but thankfully didn't comment.

"Me though?" Clockblocker said playfully. "Well, if you _really_ need eye-candy, it's a burden I'm willing to bear."

"Clock…" Gallant hissed, obviously not liking the idea at all.

For that reason alone, I slid over, making room. Even as Clockblocker took the silent invite, Gallant's shoulders sagged and he looked about one second away from facepalming. Whether that was because of his partner's antics or the fact that he was forced to sit with Circus, I couldn't tell.

The waitress breathed a rather conspicuous sigh of relief and then asked again for the Ward's drinks. Both asked for water, and since neither of them had visible faces, I wondered how in the hell they planned on drinking it.

"So what brings two paragons of light into a diner in the middle of the night with us icky _rogues,_ if not an arrest attempt, hmm?" Circus asked in their usual slightly sarcastic tone.

"Would you believe, pure coincidence and the food? I mean, Fugly's is good, but I can only take so much. Sides, Gallant's having trouble fitting in his power armor, so obviously we decided to try something lighter for our post-patrol meal."

"No. I wouldn't believe that for a minute," I answered, straight faced. "Try again, Agent 86."

"Damn," Clockblocker sighed, obviously over playing it. "And I spent so much time rehearsing that lie. Oh well. Spotted you walk in. Debated about it for fifteen minutes until I finally convinced Gallant that we wouldn't get a better chance to talk to you."

Which was a fast-talking way of saying they were put up to it by someone back at Protectorate headquarters. We were unknowns, and there were civilians around. They were here fishing. I had a good idea what they had on me thanks to Simmons, and Circus hadn't been Circus long enough to attract negative attention.

At least, I hoped she hadn't. They hadn't come in guns blazing, so that was somewhat reassuring.

"So that means I'm not speaking to two Wards, but I'm actually speaking to the interrogation recording department or whatever you call it at the PRT? Good to know…" I sighed.

"I told you they don't like rogues here," Circus said chuckling. "They're always trying to get us on something."

"Hey, it's not like that," the white costumed hero explained. "Really, we aren't even technically on duty anymore."

And that was an outright lie, unless the Protectorate ran things very differently here than they did back in New Orleans. Even without that bit of knowledge, I could tell by the way he scratched his arm. An obvious tell. Yeah, they were put up to this.

Which was actually depressing, but I guess, really not that unexpected.

"You're Wards," I pointed out. "If you're in costume, you're _always_ on duty."

Clockblocker laughed a bit self-consciously, confirming my thoughts. "Well. Gallant is, maybe. A solid half of the reason _I'm_ here at least is your gorgeous eyes."

It was mine and Circus's turns to blink and snort, respectively.

"My eyes?" I asked, trying my hardest to make it my usual dry humor and falling admittedly short of the mark. This, I had to say, was an honest first. Even if someone put him up to it. No one had ever complimented my eyes before. Not in any way that implied they were nice.

"Really?" Gallant said indignantly, oddly embarrassed by his friend's antics.

"What? You do it all the time! I can't tell a girl her eyes are pretty?"

"Not with a cheesy line like that…"

"Says the guy who uses that line on his girlfriend every time she's about to go Collateral Damage Barbie," Clockblocker snorted, leaning back into the seat and folding his arms.

Circus's full out laughter, complete with throwing their head back and literally braying, broke the argument between the two heroes and diverted all attention. I idly wondered who Gallant was dating to provoke such a reaction. She had to be a real piece of work.

Ignoring Circus I asked Clockblocker, "Do you normally hit on a girl you just met?"

"Usually," he replied gamely without any trace of shame. "Especially if she's interesting."

"How's that working for you?"

"You haven't hit me yet, and Vista isn't around to do it for you, so I figure this is about the most successful I've ever been. Honestly, I'm really not sure where to go from this point. I don't usually get this far without _someone_ hitting me."

"Somehow, I can believe it," Circus said, still chuckling. "I kinda want to hit you right now."

Clockblocker glared playfully in a way that made me certain that if he didn't have a mask, he would've been sticking his tongue out at her. I found myself smiling.

"I don't, though. Assume you have me intrigued," I said playing along. If nothing else, whoever was monitoring this conversation had to be banging their head against their desk for how it was going. "What would be your next move?"

At that moment, I heard a barely audible shout of " _No! Way!"_ flow from what must've been one of their earpieces. Clockblocker winced at the noise and I snickered.

"Ah," Clockblocker mumbled, obviously thinking fast. Gallant visibly winced, judging by what I could see of his lower face.

Circus took that moment to stage whisper, "I would kiss her."

I kicked Circus as hard as I could under the table managing to hit them in the shin. Gallant leaped out of his seat as if he thought I was going to kick him next. Circus's following string of curses, threats, and other less identifiable obscenities was ignored as I continued to wait on Clockblocker's response.

Looking like he was struggling not to laugh, he finally managed to say something. "Well, ah, maybe find out if the rumors were true? You know, the...not nice ones?"

I frowned. "For you? Or for the Protectorate?" I made it clear which option I preferred.

"Both maybe?" he replied uncomfortably. After a moment of silence where my only action was raising my eyebrow, he seemed to finally regain his footing.

"I mean, Clockblocker can't date a villain, right? But on the other hand, can you picture yourself on the front of a t-shirt with me? Come on. That would look awesome."

"My you move fast, _mon cher_ ," I said, leaning back waving my hand as if to cool myself down. "T-shirts? We hardly know each other and you're _proposing_ such...intimacy."

"Okay," Circus rasped through a gale of laughter. "This night just went from bad to good."

Her words almost covered the soft yet hysterical laughter coming from Clockblocker's earbud. I thought it sounded like a young girl's voice.

Picking up where I left off, I asked, "What makes you think Gambit is that easy? Have you thought that _I_ might have standards?"

"What?" Clockblocker asked, shocked. "I have a kickass name and I'm a hero! What's not to like?"

I nodded solemnly. "Yes, that is a significant problem: being seen in such a...familiar manner with a hero. It would be shameful to my image. You would have to work hard to make it worth it."

"Shameful!?" Gallant practically seethed. "Being a hero is one of the most–!"

Gallant's hiss almost out rang the sound of Circus smacking him in the chest with what looked like a large hammer. "Shut the fuck up, tin can. I'm watching this!"

Following my lead, Clockblocker ignored the duo and nodded just as solemnly as I had a moment ago. "Yes, I see now. Truly a challenge of epic proportions. Hmm, what if there was an offer of, say, dinner at Cafe Mediterraneo?"

"Oh?" I muttered, just a bit impressed with his choice. Chubster had mentioned that place. Great Italian, but pricey. "Well, I would say alright."

"What?" Gallant whispered.

"What?" Clockblocker asked, sounding just as shocked.

" _What!?"_ some high pitched voice shrieked from Clockblocker's earbud, which made me want to laugh even more. It was nice to know that Clockblocker was definitely going to be in trouble for this. It somehow made the whole thing feel… ironically authentic, considering the masks and all.

After Marcus, authentic felt nice.

Taking a card from a deck in my coat pocket, I scribbled an address on one side. Not mine but one in an area I knew a bit about.

"You can pick me up here, tomorrow night," I said, smiling despite myself as I handed him the marked Queen of Hearts. "Six o'clock. Do try not to keep a lady waiting, _chérie_. I will be very cross if you do."

"We… we had better go. _Right now,"_ Gallant insisted as he stood.

"I won't make you wait," Clockblocker insisted, deadly serious for likely the first time that evening as he took the card.

He was smiling intently into my eyes when he was practically yanked out of the booth. "H-hey! What's the big idea, man?"

"We're late. The others will be worried," Gallant said irritably as he dragged Clockblocker towards the door.

"No we're not, we were allowed two hou-!" Abandoning his protest he turned back to me as Gallant continued to drag him. "I'll be there…!"

The door closed behind them. The waitress never even gotten around to bringing them thier drinks.

After they were both gone, Circus turned to me. "He got you with the eyes thing, didn't he?"

"...hook, line, and sinker, in one sentence," I replied, smiling wistfully. If only it was that easy. "But we both know he's not going to show up. There is no way the PRT is going to let one of their Wards be seen with someone like me."

"You're still going to wait for him though?" Circus asked intrigued.

"Even if they don't let him come, at least he won't think I stood him up. And who knows? He got away with the name _Clockblocker_ after all."

"Heh. Well don't get your hopes up. I can't believe that shit just happened. Best comedy I've seen in Brockton… well. Ever. Almost makes this whole night worth it."

Holding out my hand, I smirked, "Not quite. It'll have been worth it as long as you pay me for backing you up tonight."

Smiling, Circus nodded putting five hundred into my hand. "So, we on for the Palanquin next week? You can bring Clockblocker if he manages to find his balls from wherever the PRT have them stashed. And, if, you know, your _Dad says you can come out and play?_ "

She snickered at the last line, but dropped the laughter when I frowned.

"Danny… won't be okay with it, but he'll understand. He's really good about not being controlling. Please don't mock this, Circus?"

"Shit… I… yeah, I'm sorry." As if feeling the weight that had just dropped, Circus immediately changed the subject. "Listen. Thanks for this. Seriously. I'll be able to hold this over you for weeks. Also made up for that shit earlier."

"Oh, don't worry about the Undersiders, _chérie_ ," I chuckled. "I'll take care of that."

"Oh?" Circus asked, turning fully to me.

"Nothing grandiose," I answered blandly. "Just a little something to remind them that words have consequences."


	22. Settling In: Chapter 7

**Settling In: Chapter 7**

I nodded, satisfied at the position of the hands on my watch. That should be enough time for them to be asleep. Putting it away, I quietly made my way down the building. Once on the street, I pulled a key I copied weeks ago just for doing something like this and unlocked Jess's jeep. Moments later, I was driving through what Danny had called the 'rough' part of the Docks.

Seeing these locations on a map was fine, but being here allowed me to put some pieces together that a map couldn't give me. Directions of travel, which fences were knocked down, and most importantly, a better sense of why they were moving in those ways. It was a simple process to triangulate a likely location for the Undersider's lair, but more than that, I was able to get a strong sense of the area.

At night, this place could have given a ghost town a run for creepy. It was, sadly, a familiar feeling, reminding me of huge sections of the Lower Ninth Ward; my old stomping ground. Except that instead of a natural disaster leaving behind its mark, it was a decade's worth of abandonment.

Grass and weeds grew between slats in the sidewalks. In some areas weeds had crawled most of the way up the poles, where they withered and died. Now each of the poles had a mess of dead brown plants hanging off of them. In contrast, there were long sections where there were no wires going from one pole to the next, just empty space. Illegal salvage, or maybe a flyer got distracted and ran into them? I couldn't tell, and honestly it could have gone either way, but whatever happened was some time ago by the look of things.

The roads had their own issues like potholes big enough to hide a small dog, which made driving interesting. Especially with the abandoned cars sitting on blocks that someone had stripped to the frame at one point or another. Driving around by moonlight in this area was definitely not for novices. Hopefully Jess's suspension was up to the task. I was definitely testing it tonight.

Even the buildings I passed proclaimed the hardships of time. Most were all faded, consisting of peeling paint, cracked mortar and rusty metal. The desaturated colors of the buildings were contrasted by splashes of vividly colored graffiti. Not the usual gang signs I expected, just normal graffiti. Which meant this area was a border area, or there wasn't a significant presence of any of the main players. That, or the Undersiders did in fact run protection around here, despite the fact that Danny didn't think they did. While it didn't look like anyone lived around here, I knew better. I bet that there were dozens of people taking refuge for lack of better in these skeletons of what was once a proud industrial section of this city.

After an hour of driving around and mentally checking my math, I found them in a red brick factory with a massive sliding metal door locked shut by a coil of chain. Parking a block away, I approached the building, keeping an eye out for guards or traps.

Both the chain and door had rusted so much that I expected that neither offered any use except to sell that 'abandoned and no one lives here, no sir' image. The size of the door and the broadness of the driveway made me think that large trucks or small boats would have been backed up through the entryway back in the factory's heyday. The building itself was large, stretching nearly half the block, two or three stories tall. The background of the sign at the top of the building had faded from red to a pale orange-pink, but I could make out the bold white letters that read 'Redmond Welding'. Overall there was visibly nothing that screamed 'Evil Lair'. Feeling confident in my math and Danny's intelligence on Bitch's movements, I slipped through a break in the fence and approached.

Walking around I found a small door on the side of the building that looked slightly odd. Getting closer showed the dirt had been swept aside, obviously by the door opening. Pressing my ear to the door, I couldn't hear the sounds of generators or anything really. Checking the door knob revealed it was locked, but that didn't take long to change.

I hated working blind. Taking a deep breath, I slowly eased the door open expecting anything from an explosion to alarms. What I got was a door opening silently on well oiled hinges.

Well, alright then.

The interior was dark. I bet that during the day it would still be dark even if there were rows of windows near the ceiling. In the pitch blackness, I thought I could just make out silhouettes of machines here and there from the moonlight that managed to get through. Close by, I could just make out the shape of something under a huge dusty tarp. First impressions was that nobody had been active in here for a long time. Yet someone had worked on the door, so there had to be something here.

Taking my time, I explored the ground floor, wondering if I was completely off in my thoughts. It wasn't until I found a spiral staircase in one corner that I looked up and realized just how good the spot they had found was.

Above me was more of that red brick most of the building was made from, but instead of a walkway as I would have expected, there was a huge loft-like area overhead. From what I could see in the heavily shadowed interior, that section appeared to have more floor space than the ground floor of Danny's house.

Okay, this was actually clever. Everything from the building to this was absolutely perfectly camouflaged to appear to be anything but what it was. Well done, Undersiders.

A test of the stairs proved they were very stable, more so than they should have been considering the condition of everything else around me. Still wary of traps, I made my way painstakingly slow, checking each step and making sure my movements didn't make noise to alert anyone to my presence.

My growing impression further ratcheted up another notch when I reached the top. Keeping myself low, I let my eyes adjust to the light before poking my head up and looking around.

The lights came from a couple of tall lamps set up around the large living room like area. A pair of couches set at right angles to each other with a coffee table between them sat facing one of the largest flatscreen TV's I had ever seen suspended by the entertainment center. Some electronics sat on shelves below where the TV was hanging but the only things I recognized were a couple of the game systems. The whole thing was framed in with two monstrous speakers on either side.

Further in, past a kitchen area, was a hallway with several closed doors. Bedrooms? Likely. Storage maybe as there were six doors and only four Undersiders. Interesting, looked like they had ambitions to grow. Six capes? That was the making of a strong gang. Hell, four was a strong team.

More telling was the mess. Pizza boxes were piled on one of the tables, two dirty plates sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, and some clothes were draped over the back of one of the couches. I saw soda cans – or maybe beer cans – stacked in a pyramid on the table on the far side. It wasn't so messy that I thought it was offensive, though. It was mess that made a statement… like, 'No adult supervision here'.

That was probably the most interesting thing so far. First impressions from the meet shifted as I added this bit of information to my thoughts. Not enough to change my plans though. Tattletale had tried to play a head game with me and Bitch had tried to attack Circus. No matter their issues or how much this place reminded me of hangouts when I was getting started, I had to send a message back. I had a rep to maintain just as much as they did.

And I knew just what I was going to take to do that.

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Sighing in satisfaction, I closed the back door of Danny's house. Looking at the coffee pot, I decided against staying up and headed toward the stairs. Wondering if Clockblocker would actually show warring with the facts that I knew it wasn't going to happen came to a screeching halt once I entered the living room and noticed the purse sitting on our couch.

It wasn't one of mine.

Fatigue momentarily dispelled I looked up to where Danny's door was then back to the strange handbag. In the end my curiosity won out, and I went through it.

The contents weren't similar to what Penny called her 'working purse'. No condoms, morning after pill case, and what makeup there was seemed random. Penny always carried specifically what she needed that night. Also extra earrings and a handful of other necessities along a similar vein.

Nor was it what I would expect from a looser working girl. Generally similar stuff, though just in lesser quality and more variety to suit the randomness of their customer base.

Instead the contents were perfectly normal. Some makeup, loose change, odds and ends, wallet, couple of tampons, keys, that kind of thing, which could only mean one thing.

Danny had a girlfriend.

One that apparently didn't password protect their phone. A fun fact I found when I picked it up. A quick look at the history revealed that they'd been in regular contact for some time. I didn't bother scrolling through them, just looking at the last few.

He called her from the house about a half hour after I left and talked for a few minutes. It didn't take Creole Bennie to figure out he either invited her over, or she talked him into letting her. Knowing Danny and how we left things, I would bet on the latter. And obviously that turned into staying the night.

Putting her phone and purse back exactly as I found them, I smiled happily. Danny was a good guy and it was nice to know he had someone to be with. Strange that he hadn't mentioned her yet or brought her over for dinner or something. Maybe he felt uncomfortable with it for some reason?

 _Ah, Annette_ , I thought as my eyes fell on her picture on the shelf. Yeah, I bet that would be awkward. Talking to me about my biological mother - and incidentally his deceased wife - around his new lady would definitely be at the top of the awkward list. But I didn't remember Annette, so it shouldn't have been too weird. Then again, Danny might see things differently. Did mystery woman know about Annette? Or me? I would think so but maybe she didn't, or more likely, hadn't realized the dynamic had changed.

Internally debating for a few moments I decided on doing nothing for now. Whatever his reasons, Danny hadn't felt up to talking to me about this. Then again, he might have planned to do it tonight before I left to help Jess. Which killed some of my accomplishment over the evening.

I'd talk to him about it in a few hours. I didn't see a strange car outside so it was a pretty safe bet she'd be here in the morning.

Decided, I quietly walked up the stairs to my room. A change of clothes and within moments I was asleep, comfortably snug in my cocoon of blankets. It seemed like I barely closed my eyes when the incessant beeping of my alarm woke me. The digital alarm clock informed me that it was almost ten am. Well, I wasn't likely to be up late tonight, so I guess that would be alright. Turning off the evil contraption, I picked up my phone, seeing I had a single text from Jess.

'It's beautiful. Not even mad you stole my car again last night.'

My groggy chuckle preceded me sending a quick 'You're welcome' back then forcing myself to attended to morning ablutions.

Sweetpants and t-shirt clad, I descended the stairs heading for the kitchen where I found Danny reading the Sunday paper.

"Morning, kiddo," he greeted me, looking over the top of his newspaper. "Long night?"

"Productive," I absently corrected, ignoring the searching manner of his eyes as they obviously looked me over for damage while I poured myself a cup of coffee.

From what I could see of Danny not covered by his paper, I could tell he wasn't as casually dressed as I was. Looking from his shoes to the living room, and the noticeable lack of strange purse, confirmed that he must have taken his girlfriend home this morning at some point while I was sleeping.

"But not as _productive_ as yours, hmm?" I muttered from behind my cup of caffeine goodness.

"I don't know about that," Danny replied in a way that fooled neither of us. "I stayed in all night."

"Yes you did," I said knowingly. Not getting any reaction, I rolled my eyes, sitting across from him. "Soooo…."

"So?"

Fine, if he wanted to play it like that, I'd let it go. For now. Besides, there was more than one way to fleece a player.

"I was thinking we could do something today," I said, watching his reaction over the top of my coffee cup.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, looking far too relieved for the topic direction.

"Several things," I answered vaguely, reeling him in. "I was looking around the house and noticed that we could use some repairs."

Frowning, Danny nodded. "Yeah, I've let some things go too long. But repairmen are expensive, Renée."

Which was Danny's way of saying he couldn't afford major repairs himself, and didn't want me going out and getting the money myself.

"Sure, but we could do some of it ourselves," I said. "Things like cleaning out the gutters and maybe a deep clean inside the house. I was also hoping we could also go grocery shopping. You might like living on cereal, microwave meals, and take out, but I don't. It would be nice to cook with a proper range of ingredients."

Seeing him wince at my comment, I continued. "We could go together, pick up things we both like. Make an afternoon of it. If there's time we could stop by a hardware store and look at paints. Figure out what we would like to use to repaint the inside of the house. It would save money if we did that together and it would be fun."

"We could stand to pick up a few things," Danny tentatively agreed with me. "You said if there was time. Did you have something going on this evening?"

"Nothing like that," I answered, smirking at his tone knowing full well he was talking about me hanging out with Jess. Pausing long enough for him to smile and pick up his own cup of coffee, I added, "I have a date."

Danny spitting out his drink all over his paper was completely worth it.

"You...how, date...what?" At least that was what I thought he said through his chokes, sputters, and coughs.

"Nu-huh," I said, smirking. "You get no more than that until you tell me about your friend."

"My friend?" Danny asked weakly.

"Hmm, yes. The one who stayed here last night," I clarified.

"I don't…"

"Found a purse on the couch when I got home."

"Well that could be…"

"Wasn't mine. One, I don't own a leather purse. Two, I don't use the same brand of tampons mystery woman does."

"Renée," Danny whined, face completely hidden in his hands at my comments.

"So?" I asked leadingly while relishing my victory and Danny's discomfort. "Who were you knocking boots with?"

After several long moments of embarrassment, Danny finally looked up. "It's not what you think."

"I'm kind of hoping it is, actually. I've already ruled out Call and Working Girl as you're not really the type," I said, enjoying the shifting shades of red on Danny's face. "I assumed she was either a girlfriend, or a booty call. Leaning toward girlfriend from the call history on her phone. Unless you're exceptionally gifted, and she likes it like that, no one's going to keep coming back as much as she has judging by the number of times you've called each other."

"Seriously, Renée?"

"I roomed with Penny for over a year," I reminded Danny. "And then there's _Jess_. Are you really surprised?"

"Not surprised," Danny sighed. "A little disturbed that you know so much about...this kind of thing."

"Call it what it is, Danny. Sex," I said watching him wince, blush, and I was pretty sure he tried swallowing his tongue, judging by his coughing fit. "And yes, between Jess and Penny, I was well educated on the topic, whether I wanted to be or not."

"So, tell me about your girlfriend and I'll tell you about my date later," I said playfully, adding wiggling eyebrows to further frustrate him.

Danny sighed seeming strangely reluctant, but he eventually caved in. "Her name is Lillian. She works at the city library downtown, and as you've guessed, we've kind of been seeing each other for a few months."

"Librarian, huh?" I asked, purposely leaving off 'naughty' in my question. I didn't think Danny's blood pressure could take it, though it was a near thing. I had definitely been hanging out with Jess too much recently. "Why so reluctant to tell me about her?"

Sighing again, Danny looked anywhere but at me. "I just…things have been rather rushed. You found me and then we went to New Orleans. We've only been back for a little while and things are still going fairly quickly. I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"Danny," I started to say before pausing. "Danny, I don't expect you to be alone for the rest of your life. I doubt Annette would either."

Seeing his wince, complete with shoulders hunching told me I hit the nail on the head. "It's been some time, yes? Since Annette passed?"

Not saying anything, Danny nodded.

"I know losing her must have been hard," I said as sympathetically as I could, considering I had no memories of her. Only the things Danny's told me, and of those, I had enough from his own reactions to know how much she meant to him. "But everything you've told me about her tells me she was a special person. I doubt she would want you to pine for her, forever."

"I didn't want you to think I was trying to replace her," Danny whispered. "No one could ever replace Annette. Not as your mother or in any other way."

Getting up and moving around the table, I pulled Danny into a hug, the first I ever initiated. "I don't think that, and I don't think she would either. I think she would want you to be happy. If it makes you feel any better, I'm happy for you."

"That," Danny said, choking on his own words for a moment before he continued. "That actually means a lot. Sorry I didn't tell you about her."

"It's okay," I said, letting him go. "I understand and we're new to this open sharing thing, no?"

Laughing a bit at my not quite inaccurate joke, Danny nodded. "So, you left last night to help your cape friend, and ended up with a date? Should I be worried?"

"Probably," I chuckled, taking my seat after refilling our cups. "But probably not. My gentleman caller isn't a villain, just so you know. Just the opposite actually. Clockblocker asked me out."

"Okay, back up," Danny said, shaking his head. "How did you go from meeting with the Undersiders, to a Ward asking you out?"

Chuckling at his confusion, I told him about the meeting with the Undersiders, how badly it went and Circus suggesting we get a late breakfast at the Hard Luck. How Clockblocker and Gallant walked in and then Clockblocker's obvious - and cheesy - awkward flirting.

"Why can't you date a nice, normal boy that I can threaten properly?" Danny playfully whined. "Am I going to be doomed to never be able to play the overprotective father card? To get to threaten a young man interested in my daughter?"

"You can still threaten him," I pointed out, playing along. "I don't mind. I never had anyone do something like that for me. It sounds very dramatic. Just so you know, Clockblocker's power freezes things he touches in time. He's not physically immune to buckshot so I'm fairly sure you can still make something work."

"I'm so unprepared for these kinds of things," Danny continued to faux mope. "I don't even have a shotgun."

"If you really want one, I could probably get one for you fairly cheap. I know a guy who most likely knows someone local to get you one."

"Which wouldn't do me any good anyway," Danny sighed. "Since my daughter is, apparently, a well connected leg breaker."

"Stop it," I laughed, picking up a slice of uneaten toast from the table and throwing it at Danny. "I'm just a thief, _mon cher_. Get it right."

Dodging my projectile, Danny laughed with me. "The more I think about it, the more I actually feel sorry for the young man. He has no idea what he's getting into."

Rolling my eyes at his dramatics, I said, "He's probably not even going to show up, so I don't think there is anything for you or him to worry about. I'm sure there will be other opportunities to threaten potential suitors for my hand."

"Why wouldn't he show after he asked you out?" Danny asked, frowning.

"Because he's a hero," I answered flatly. Shrugging at his continued frown, I added, "I ran with a gang, Danny. It might have only been with them for a few months, but the PRT knows about it. Even after I left the Street Rats and tried going straight, the PRT still treated me with open suspicion. Even threatened me a few times. That was at least half the reason why I formed the Guild in the first place. If they were going to treat me like a criminal, then I was going to be one, and laugh while they tried to prove it."

"I'm a thief," I admitted uncaringly as I continued. "I robbed a few places and people. I did it making sure they couldn't conclusively prove that I was involved. I also gave a lot back to the community. A lot of people on both sides of the line benefited from what I was doing. Three lefts don't make a right, I get that, but you won't see me lose any sleep over it. However, the PRT sees things very differently. Very black and white with little care for those lacking in means to see the world in the same way."

Looking very conflicted, Danny nodded reluctantly to my points. "If you don't think he'll show, why…"

"Make a deal about it?" I finished.

At his nod, I sighed. Smiling guiltily, I gushed, "He said my eyes were gorgeous."

Danny's surprise quickly changed to a knowing smirk as he stared at me.

"Okay, yeah, it's cheesy and stupid," I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat up. "He was probably told to say something like that anyways, but he still got points for doing it convincingly. No one's ever said something like that to me before. Took me by surprise."

Danny's chuckles wasn't as bad as his smirk, but I bore through the embarrassment I earned. Never let it be said I couldn't take as well as I could give it.

Shaking his head, Danny said, "So you intend on waiting for him, just in case he wasn't put up to it, and manages to evade his supervisors to meet with you?"

"He earned his shot," I agreed.

"In that case," Danny said leadingly. "I guess we should get our day started before you need to get ready."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

The rest of the day seemingly passed in a blink. We went grocery shopping where both of us playfully tried to impress our culinary preferences on the other. We didn't get a chance to look at paints, but we did spend quite a bit of time talking about the colors we wanted. It was nice, and highlighted our different desires and tastes. No decisions reached, but I thought we both walked away having enjoyed the easy conversation for what it was.

Getting back consisted of unloading our purchases, stocking the pantry and refrigerator. After that, setting up all the cleaning supplies we added to the household arsenal. Then, starting on a good pre clean. Conversation was light, which I appreciated, and had nothing to do with anything too heavy. After several hours, I called my part done, and head upstairs to take a shower.

It wasn't until I was halfway done that I allowed myself to consider that Clockblocker just might actually show up. That realization rode on the back of the question, what was I going to do if he did?

I mean, sure, I could play it off as nothing. But, what if it wasn't? He did seem kinda happy that I accepted and he even said he'd be there while Gallant was dragging him away.

Which just made this whole thing awkward. Surely the PRT wasn't going to let him hang out, much less actually date, a rogue with a shady past. Right? But then again, Clockblocker was kind of known for not taking the whole hero thing seriously according to the PHO boards.

Frowning, and more than a touched worried now, I finished. Toweling down I realized that I forgot my makeup. Sighing at the distraction, I wrapped my towel tightly around myself to protect my modesty and headed to my bedroom where I found surprisingly found Danny.

"Uh, hi?" I asked awkwardly.

"Renée," he greeted me looking a bit flushed and thankfully looking anywhere but at me. "I thought I would have more time."

"Time for what?" I asked cautiously.

Instead of answering, Danny moved aside revealing a beautiful old style vanity set against the wall. Sporting a dark oak looking finish, several drawers with intricate white handles, and crowned with a large circular mirror, it was probably one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture I'd even seen that wasn't in some rich person's house. Definitely far more than anything I'd ever owned. While it didn't look roughed up - just the opposite, it looked well cared for - it definitely had that 'used' feel to it. Not in a bad way, but in a way that said 'this wasn't a showpiece, but something someone loves'.

"This belonged to your mother, Annette," Danny said, looking uncomfortable, and yet happy.

Looking from the vanity to Danny and back, I didn't know exactly what to say or do, settling for raising an eyebrow hoping he understood.

Thankfully, he did as he explained. "Annette said that she had this in every bedroom she ever lived in since she was eight years old. Until she passed away, it was in our bedroom and she used it every day."

"Why?" I couldn't help but ask. "Why give this to me?"

"Annette would want you have it," Danny said, smiling sadly. "To use it like she did. I think she planned on giving it to you for your fourteenth birthday, but…"

Right. She died before I turned fourteen, and then I vanished.

"I had it set aside in the basement, but with your... _work_ , and now boys, I thought it was long past time I brought this up for you," Danny finished lamely.

I smiled at his mention of 'boys'. He clearly hated the idea of me dating. How much of that was him being a father, and how much was his worry that what little time we had, would get shorter?

Walking closer, I ran my hand over the wood just appreciating what having this meant. I didn't remember Annette, but this right here was something that had once been hers. She sat in the little chair that actually matched the vanity. She did that every day, putting on her makeup since she was a kid.

"Is it strange that even though I can't remember her, I actually feel closer to her with this?" I asked softly.

"I don't think it's strange at all, Renée," Danny assured me, a soft smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll just let you finish doing your thing."

Once Danny left, I pulled out the chair and sat before the large mirror. For several moments, I just let myself feel. I could almost see Annette sitting exactly where I was, doing her makeup. Next to her, a small version of me, asking questions and watching with an innocence and childlike wonder I'd never personally known. Seeing Annette's reflection softly smile at mini-me, just appreciating the mother daughter moment for what it was.

I never hated my amnesia as much as I did at this moment.

Swallowing thickly, I pulled my bag from where I laid it beside the bed, toward me. Taking out my tarot cards, I started shuffling them.

It was moments like this, that I seriously questioned what I was doing here. Before Danny found me, or rather, before Jess found Danny, I was happy. Not great happy, but okay happy. I had the Guild, Sam, and Penny. I had exciting work and all of New Orleans was my playground. I didn't care about my past, it wasn't constantly being thrown in my face. I didn't _miss_ those memories. They didn't _matter_.

But here, in Brockton Bay, I didn't have the luxury of ignorance. I couldn't ignore my past. It was everywhere. In the air I breathed, the people I interacted with, just...everywhere. Things like this vanity, what it meant, _hurt_. It hurt because they were constant reminders of what I was missing. What was taken from me.

It was moments like this, I didn't know which was worse. Staying and working to recapture as much of my loss as I could, or leaving, and never looking back.

Done shuffling, I started laying down cards one by one. While the future was not fixed there was a flow to it. A...purpose to things. Sometimes the cards would let me glimpse it, and I needed to know before...before I let myself...

Shaking off those thoughts, I laid the first card down; far left, to represent me. Second position; next to the first, to answer why it was worth staying. Third position; next to the second, why it was worth leaving. Fourth position; continuing left to right beside third, my happiness if I stayed. Last in line, fifth position, my happiness if I left. Finally, the sixth and last card set below third position, what I should do.

I let my fingers trail along the cards. Feeling what there was to feel, letting it guide me through my questions. By that alone I could sense the flow, the purpose of things and how everything was leaning. Like threads in the tapestry, it was all tightly bound together. Each strand woven into another yet moving in the same direction. That was, until the last card.

"Well," I whispered almost inaudibly, fingers caressing the image in disbelief at how it related to the whole spread. How...contradictory. "Isn't that interesting."

Looking away from the card, but keeping my fingers on it, I turned to the mirror. My reflection stared back looking just as baffled as I felt. My pitch black sclera and blood red irises never more vivid to me than they were right now.

He said he liked my eyes. Thought they were pretty. But was that enough? Was one person's opinion enough to really throw the whole flow of events into question? It was like banking on an inside straight, when all you had to work with was a pair.

 _Then again,_ I reasoned, _Sometimes, you don't get the cards you wanted or think you need, but that doesn't mean you can't win with the ones you did get. And, I'm a gambler. Sometimes, you just have to throw your dice, and hope for the best no matter what the odds say._

Snorting at my own logic, I leaned away. The same question rattling around in my head and no closer to an answer than I was before the reading.

It all came down to that simple question, didn't it? Should I stay, or should I go?

I didn't know the answer, but maybe, I wasn't supposed to. Maybe, this was one of those things where the answer didn't come from within, but from without.

Only one way to know for sure.

 _XxXGambitXxX_

This was stupid. Here I was, standing on a sidewalk beside the street, waiting. I put a lot of effort into my appearance, which I just _knew_ was going to be wasted. Nails, both finger and toes which no one but me would see, were freshly painted. My hair was nice, held back by a dragonfly hairclip on my right side. I wasn't even in my armor. Instead, I was dressed in my best - and most flattering - jeans and a nice top. I was even wearing low heels that went with my jeans, for fuck's sake. The only visible concession to my normal cape look, was my trenchcoat.

And here I was, all alone, on this deserted street, waiting for a hero I barely knew to arrive. Like that was going to happen. As if I was living in some kind of stupid story posted on the PHO or something.

Opening my pocket watch, I stared at the second hand as it happily ticked along, unceasing and uncaring, in its journey.

It was now officially six o'clock and the only sounds on the street around me were the wind as it completed it's own journey and the ticking of my watch.

Well, I guess that answered that. Taking a deep breath, I nodded to myself. Was there really any other way this was going to go? Of course not. I knew that. I knew what people thought of me. Heroes - and especially Wards - were no different here, than they were in Louisiana. I never should have gotten my hopes up. I knew better. Tarot reading was stupid anyways. No matter how right it's been for me in the past.

Giving the neighborhood around me one final look, I could tell there wasn't anyone watching except for the cab waiting down the street. Turning on my heel, I started my walk of shame toward it. Ignoring the look on the driver's face, I grabbed the door handle.

"Wait!"

Turning to the voice, I watched someone running toward me. For a moment, I didn't think he was shouting at me, until I noticed the mask he was wearing. It was identical to Clockblocker's, but left his mouth and jaw exposed. The rest of him was dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a nice shirt done in a similar theme to Clocks.

Watching him race toward me, I felt myself smile despite my thoughts just moments ago.

"Well spank my ass and fuck me cross eyed," Jess mumbled from the driver's seat of the cab. "He fucking showed up after all."


	23. Settling In: Chapter 8

**Settling In: Chapter 8**

I was even more sure of my guess as he got closer. Like me, Clockblocker hadn't come in full costume. Instead, he wore a nice set of dark slacks that looked expensive and had his clock theme stitched into the sides of his legs in white, running from his dress shoes to his hips. His dress shirt was similarly themed, though in no way could it be called armor like his regular costume. The overall look was completed by his mask, covering most of his face. Like an opera mask but with blue opaque lenses concealing his eyes, and decaled exactly like his normal mask continuing the look his clothes gave.

"I… I'm sorry!" the boy breathed through winded lungs, hands on knees. It seemed like he'd been _running_ for quite some time in order to get here. Something supported by how his hair looked like he started off with it matching his uptown look, but was now disheveled and wind blown. "I was trying to…! Uh.. I…!"

"You kept me waiting, Clockblocker. I am cross."

He cocked his head at me.

"I did say I would be," I said, unable to help a small grin letting him know I was teasing.

Seeming to finally get his breath back, he chuckled, "I guess I deserve that."

"When you didn't show, I thought you might have blocked your own _clock_."

"First, time puns, really?" he asked looking more amused than offended.

I smiled smugly seeing through him. "I could have gone with, 'Hi Justin!' You know, because you were, just-in-time."

"That was bad," Clockblocker said flatly. "And you should feel bad for saying it."

"You would know," I countered easily. "According to the PHO, you're the master of bad one liners."

"Ouch," he mumbled as if physically wounded. "Which leads into my second point. Is there any way I can convince you to abandon your exciting life of villainy for a boring one with the Wards? Seriously, think about it. Between the two of us, think of all the great ways we can annoy everyone! But mostly Director Piggot. And Armsmaster. And...no, no, I really can see us managing to successfully annoy everyone."

"Suspected villain," I corrected him, trying not to laugh. "Until someone manages to fabricate evidence to prove otherwise."

"So, is that a no?"

Giving into a chuckle, I shook my head. "You're cute, but you're not _that_ cute, _chérie_."

"Oh well," Clockblocker sighed falsely. "At least I got the mandatory Wards pitch out of the way. Sorry for that by the way. Vista would throw a fit if she found out I didn't at least try to get you to join, not to mention the director."

"They really make you pitch the Wards to non-aligned capes?"

"It's in my contract," he shrugged uncaringly before he smirked. "Or so they tell me. I haven't actually read it yet."

"And you've been a Ward for, how long?" I asked dryly.

"Almost two years now," he answered with a knowing smirk. "But I figure as long as I don't actually read it, I can plausibly deny knowing I'm not allowed or supposed to do stuff."

"Like hitting on random girls you just met and conning them into going out with you?"

"Exactly."

And then the conversation died leaving us standing next to the cab, not saying anything. Which reminded me that I'd never actually been on a real date before. Marcus and I usually just hung out at whatever crash pad people were gathering at. Well, when we - or rather I - had time for it. Most of my time was usually spent planning a heist, setting up everything that needed to be in place before doing one, or dealing with all the little details that needed to be dealt with after. Even when I wasn't doing something like that, there was always something to take care of.

Yeah...this was awkward. So of course, Jess took this moment to remind us they were present.

"Meter's runnin'," they said in a clear masculine tone that also clearly said they had heard everything we said.

"Right," Clockblocker said lamely. "So, I guess we should go?"

"Probably," I replied just as badly. When Jess snorted at how we were still standing around, I moved to the cab door, and was almost instantly halted.

Clockblocker stepped in front of me and opened the cab door actually doing a better job of getting in the way than being gentlemanly.

I shuffled backward awkwardly to get out of the way and around the door, chuckling a little bit as his nervousness finally revealed itself.

"Ah… sorry. I should… Gallant always sorta does… Ehmm," he blundered oddly as he held the door and his arm out for me to get inside.

I grinned at him and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's sweet, _mon cher_ , but don't get so caught up what other people do. I didn't agree to see Gallant tonight, after all."

He beamed. "A-alright then!"

Without another word, Clockblocker got in with me following. If the silence that followed our starting banter was bad, it was worse now that we were in close proximity, in the back of a cab, both of us sitting next to each other, but not close enough to accidentally touch, and very aware of the others' proximity.

"You, ah," Clockblocker mumbled making me think he was just as uncomfortable as I was. "You look really nice."

"Thank you," I replied, smiling despite myself. Turning slightly to him, I gave his outfit another look. "You do as well, though I am dead curious about where you got that get up."

"My cousin," Clock smirked.

"So let me get this straight," I couldn't help but ask. "Instead of going as yourself, you're going as a normal guy, cosplay dressed up as your heroic alter ego?"

"Don't knock cosplay," Jess muttered so low I barely heard it. Pretty sure Clockblocker didn't, instead he answered my question.

"Hiding in plain sight. Clever eh?"

"Considering some of the cape nuts out there, it actually is," I admitted. "Helps that your outfit is the right blend so that it works, without actually giving away anything."

"Thanks. I probably should take credit for it, but it was actually Vista's idea," Clockblocker admitted. "She reminded me about it after Gallant and I had it out this morning."

"Oh?" I asked curiously. "Troubles?"

"Something like that," Clockblocker snorted, shaking his head. "Do you have any idea how fast gossip travels around the PRT building?"

"No clue," I admitted freely. "But, I'll have to find a way to thank Vista later. It was nice of her to help you out."

"Yeah… ah. It was."

The silence afterwards begged to be filled but it seemed neither of us could think of anything to say. Jess snickered after a few minutes before putting a cd into the car's stereo.

I rolled my eyes as an Elton John song filled in the silence with cheesy romance.

"Really guy? Really?" Clockblocker asked. I couldn't tell if he was offended by the music itself, or the blatant trolling.

"My cab, my tunes," Jess shot back easily. "Don't like it, you can walk."

Catching their eyes in the rear view mirror, I silently mouthed, "I'm going to kill you."

Jess's shit eating grin only got wider.

It wasn't long before we arrived and both Clockblocker and I were thankful to be away from Jess. For the moment anyways. I had no delusions they were going away. I just hoped they didn't somehow masquerade as our waiter here.

Then again, with Jess, that was actually a terrifying possibility.

"So, is it just me or was that guy laughing at us pretty much the whole trip?" Clockblocker asked.

"Yeah," I sighed, trying to play it off with a shrug. "But cab drivers, what are you going to do, right?"

Cafe Mediterraneo was every bit as posh as Chubster said. Which was still a bit more than I was comfortable with now that I was here and looking around. Unlike similar places in New Orleans, this was posh without any real...soul, I guess. At least, not one I was familiar with.

Next to me, Clockblocker sighed, which made me think he was sharing my thoughts about the place. But we were here now.

Inside, everything was nice. Pleasant artwork, good looking tables and settings. Really everything was giving off that nice Italian vibe. I have expected to see the Godfather sitting in the back somewhere, surrounded by minions and eating a sandwich or something. What people that were here looked at us, smirked or blinked and then ignored us for the most part.

Clockblocker must have forewarned the staff we were coming, as the hostess took one look at us, and immediately sent us a waitress to show us to a table. She then took our drink orders - water for me, soda for Clock - and then left. Neither of us said a word for several _long_ minutes. Even after the waitress came back with our drinks and left again, the only words exchanged at our table were from us to our waitress, letting her know that we needed more time to look over our options.

This whole thing was starting to feel like a job interview, but without the job or any other pay out that I could think of. Our earlier conversation - weak as it was - had fallen flat. Now there was nothing to do but stare at our empty plates or menus and hope the awkwardness passed.

"So," Clockblocker said, thankfully breaking the silence. "What brings you to Brockton Bay? If you don't mind me asking? I mean, New Orleans, and based on the… coat, you don't seem to be a big fan of the cold."

"I'm not," I answered. "Never did like the cold, but I would have thought there were plenty of guesses for why I was in the Bay in my PRT file."

Clockblocker sighed, smiling wryly. "Not much getting around that, is there?"

Wincing at his tone, and kind of feeling like a bitch, I smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but I've not had what you could call good experiences with Wards. Besides, we both know you read it. I could tell based on some of the things you said last night."

"And yet, I'm here," he accurately pointed out not denying that he had.

" _Touché,"_ I acknowledged. "The question then becomes, why? Why ask me out?"

"Something tells me you won't believe I just wanted a chance to hang out with a pretty girl."

Biting my lip, I shook my head affirming his thoughts.

"Alright, so why do you think I asked?"

"Could be several reasons," I replied cautiously.

"Such as?"

"Information gathering for one," I answered with the first thought on my mind. It wouldn't be the first time someone in the PRT sent someone to find out things about me. Though, this would be the first time they sent a hero to do it. Normally they sent less...inconspicuous types and nothing about Clockblocker could be called subtle.

"Isn't that what a first date is though? Two people gathering information so they get to know each other?"

"Depends on if you're wired or not."

"It would be totally inappropriate to suggest that I'd let you check me, if I got to check you, wouldn't it?"

"Very," I drawled, but his comment did get a smirk from me as well as breaking a bit of the tension between us.

"Damn," Clockblocker cursed. "Well, I'm not, just so you know. What else do you have?"

Nodding to his tone of 'might as well get it over with' I pretending to think for a moment. Just long enough for Clockblocker to pick up his glass and take a drink. "Well, this could be a honey pot trap."

Instead of explosive spit take I was expecting, he managed to keep it contained to his glass. "Excuse me?"

"You know, get to girl to fall for you, reveal all her dirty secrets and then use that against her," I answered honestly. It wasn't high on my list of possibilities considering who I was sharing a table with, but then again, I didn't suspect Marcus of doing it either.

"If that was the case, they would have sent Gallant," he replied dryly. "He can cheat."

"You said yourself that he was taken, and even when he wasn't taken, he was taken," I reminded him.

"Aegis then," he replied, not missing a beat. "Keep in mind, I'm about as straight as it gets, but the guy's single and ripped like you wouldn't believe. He's way better with girls than I am."

"Then why?" I asked expressionlessly.

"I didn't expect you to accept," Clockblocker finally answered, looking rather rough for having admitted it. "Honestly, I was mostly playing around since most people don't take me seriously, but just so you know, I meant it when I said you look really nice tonight."

The longer this conversation went, the more certain I was that it had nothing to do with my worst case scenarios. You could fake a lot of things - I know I could - but the awkwardness, earnest expressions, and his cosplay outfit were not something most could fake without giving something away.

Then there was my gut telling me that Clockblocker was absolutely _nothing_ like Marcus. Granted, I didn't know enough about him yet, but by now Marcus would've been bragging about something he'd done. A heist or con he pulled. Someone he had helped. But then, with Marcus, there wouldn't even be a _right now._ Our best date had consisted of a midnight boat ride, on a stolen boat, moving jewelry we took from the Baker Estate to our fence.

But even Marcus, asshole that he turned out to be, was still better than most of the Wards I'd met. My mind strayed to Guppy, and I forcibly put down thoughts of New Orleans. Both the good and bad, returning my focus to the guy sitting across from me.

I must have been silent awhile. Clockblocker was looking about as miserable as I felt at how things were going making me think about my tarot reading. Specifically the sixth card that through everything out of balance.

The World, reversed. Traditionally it should have signified me leaving Brockton Bay, as the other cards had hinted. Instead of pushing as the others had, it spoke to me of reaching out to others, even if who those 'others' were, was vague.

Maybe there really was something to it, after all.

"Hey," I said softly. Once I had his attention, I tilted my head to the cafe around us. "This really isn't my kind of place. You?"

"Not even a little," he chuckled weakly. "I've never actually been here before, but Gallant's always talking about bringing his girlfriend here and, well, seemed like a good idea at the time."

"How about we get out of here," I suggested. "We could go to the Boardwalk? Maybe start over?"

"Yeah?" Clockblocker asked, perking up slightly.

"Yeah," I smiled warmly.

We got up immediately, both of us eager to put the strangeness behind us. He didn't even comment on the twenty I tossed on the table to pay for our drinks and for leaving without ordering anything else.

Once outside, I felt like a weight had lifted from my shoulders. It got lighter when Clockblocker spoke next, his tone far more lighthearted than it had been all evening.

"Okay, it is time to freeze out this awkwardness! I have an idea."

"I'm listening," I replied gamely and ignoring his pun. He'd earned a few bad puns tonight.

"So, we're both capes," he said. "And that's already almost ruined everything. So, how about, no talking about any of that stuff for the rest of the night?"

Smiling, I nodded. "I'd like that."

"We'll just keep it light, and have some fun."

"Sounds good so far. What did you have in mind?"

"Get to know each other questions, no holds barred. Except for nothing cape related. AND," he made a big show flattening his dress shirt in a way that clearly indicated he wasn't wearing a wire, "-entirely off the record."

Looking upward, chuckling embarrassedly and knowing I had earned that hit, I nodded as we set off walking toward the Boardwalk. "Alright, you earned the first question."

He rubbed his hands together, cackling in a really overblown evil way. "Excellent. My first question will be the most important and will tell me all I need to know about you. What...is your favorite type of ice cream?"

Laughing at such an innocent question when I was expecting something far different, I answered honestly. The rest of our walk to the Boardwalk passed in a blur of similar questions. Neither of us broaching anything cape related, though I had a harder time with it than Clockblocker did. Almost everything I knew involved something in that vein. Keeping in the spirit of the game though, I fought with my instincts to out right lie or make up something. Instead, I phrased my answers in a way that answered honestly, but didn't implicate me in anything.

Which - I was actually happy to see - didn't fool him in the least. Better, Clockblocker seemed to understand what I was doing and didn't make a deal about it. Instead he'd make a joke, sometimes decent but mostly they were horrible puns that were actually fairly funny for being so bad. We drew more than a few strange looks, which turned into curiosity and a few compliments on Clockblocker's 'costume' for being so well made. Which inspired more laughter as we were the only ones who knew the joke he was playing on everyone and that got us more odd and bemused looks.

It wasn't until after we settled on a cheap burger and fries for dinner that I lost my composure with the elephant I was trying to ignore, and sighed.

"Hey, I didn't think my joke was that bad," he said.

"It's not that," I assured him, smirking. "Though it was kind of bad."

"Like you could have made that pun work any better," Clock chuckled. "So, why the sigh?"

"We're being followed," I admitted reluctantly. "Over my shoulder, back by the pretzel vendor. Two teens, a guy and a smallish girl."

Looking, Clockblocker groaned.

"I know they're not following us because of me," I said knowingly. "I only know two people in the city that could possibly be the girl, but what little I noted of her hair and skin is wrong."

"No," he whispered. "The Girl Scout story? It's true?"

"There's a story?"

"Ah, yeah! Look, I know I said no cape stuff but I have to know. Please, please, tell me you really made a gang banger buy girl scout cookies!"

I flushed. I could actually feel my cheeks heat up at how much attention he was giving that. Feeling a little embarrassed for the first time in a long while. "He was rude to her."

"You, are forever going to be my hero," he said before his laughter got the better of him.

Sighing, but chuckling myself, I brought the topic back to less embarrassing ground. "The people following us have been doing so since we left the restaurant."

Happy to see that little tidbit bring him back around, Clockblocker shook his head. "Figures."

"So you do recognize them?"

"Yeah…"

"I was pretty sure they were your teammates, and I've been trying to not look since they're not in costume, but having a blind spot is starting to get to me."

"Thanks," he sighed. "You have some serious skills to have seen them that far back."

"They're not very good at the whole stealthy thing," I chuckled. "But thank you. It's an invaluable skill that has been something of a survival requirement for a little fish in a big bayou full of hungry gators."

"I bet," he smirked back. "I should have known she was going to do this. Even though they're doing it to themselves, thanks for respecting things."

I shrugged. "Not everyone's as laissez-faire about stuff as I am."

"Cara Mia!" Clockblocker whispered. "That's French!"

"Nope," I laughed, unable to help myself. Making sure he missed when he playfully lunged for my arm, I wagged my finger at him. "Nu-huh, down boy."

"You know what French does to me," he continued, looking pitiful, though that could have been because he was trying to keep it together and not laugh. No telling what his friends thought of his antics, but we were starting to attract attention.

"Go, take care of your friends, Gomez."

"Yeah," Clock sighed, still looking pleased I caught the reference. "I'll be back soon, alright?"

"I'm not going to vanish on you. Go on, I'll be here."

Looking oddly relieved by what I had said, and making me wonder if someone had actually done that to him in the past, Clockblocker got up and headed off toward the pretzel stand his friends were hiding behind.

He'd only just moved past, barely gone long enough for me to pick up a french fry when his seat was taken by a blonde girl. Hair done up in a bun that looked intricate while also pulling off that 'I did this with a pencil' feel. Raising an eyebrow at the bottle green eyed girl that had been following us for the last ten minutes, I remained silent letting her make the first move.

The thought she might be one of Clockblocker's ex girlfriends with some serious stalking skills was very much on my mind until she started talking.

"Seriously?" she asked. "A villain going on a date with a hero? Rather bad trashy romance novel esque, don't you think?"

"Says the girl confronting me in a public place while in her civilian guise," I replied after hearing her voice and that particular knowing tone. "Rather... _ou metdam_."

"You didn't give me much of a choice, considering what you pulled last night."

"You trod on the rules first," I reminded her pointedly. "Did you really expect I wouldn't accept the invitation you sent me?"

She was silent, only the narrowing of her eyes giving me any clue to her inner thoughts.

"Next time you decide to push someone, you should double check your intel," I suggested, picking up another fry before continuing. "More importantly, you should make sure they can't push back, or at least, be willing to take it if they do. I could have done a lot worse."

"You talk a good game but you broke the rules worse than I did," the girl immediately fired back. "I alluded, you outright spied on us while we were uncostumed."

"What?" I asked honestly confused. "No I didn't. I waited until you were all asleep and never went past the living room."

"You," she started to say, wincing in a way that made it look like she suddenly got a migraine. It was a look I was familiar with from working with Bennie. "Fuck, you actually didn't, did you?"

I shook my head. "Just because some rules don't apply to me, doesn't mean they don't exist for a reason. If it makes you feel any better, you're not the first thinker to have problems with me. I know one who went berserk for an hour when he tried to directly read me."

"That actually makes sense," the girl sighed, squinting at me. "Fucking trumps."

I shrugged. "It has its downsides, but powers, right?"

"I can already tell, you are going to be a huge pain in my ass," she muttered good naturedly before holding out her hand. "Lisa."

Taking it, I smiled, "Renée. So are we good, or are you going to ruin my evening?"

"Hadn't planned on it."

"Good, because I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of screwing this up, all by myself," I said dryly.

Snorting, Lisa looked over my shoulder toward where Clockblocker disappeared to, then back to me. "One thing before your dashing paramour comes back. Is there any way I can get you to give back Regent's TV?"

"Regent's? It wasn't communal?"

"No, and you have no idea how fucking annoying he's been ever since he woke up and saw it missing. He spent an hour just sitting on the couch, pathetically holding his controller, and making video game noises when he wasn't staring at me! When I ignored him, he got _creative_."

"Well, at least that part worked out," I said bemused. "But, no, it's already been moved, and you did invite me to retaliate. I could have decided to take everyone's left shoes."

"Really?" Lisa asked looking both annoyed and amused.

"It was a thought. So was going around and moving everything three degrees to the left."

"I would have shot you. Twice," Lisa said flatly. "Do you any idea what that would have done to me this morning?"

"A pretty good one, yeah," I snickered, seeing her eye twitch. "The other idea was simply burning a joker into the TV so that it would appear as if it was _behind_ the TV's glass. I figured right in the middle of the screen would have gotten the best reaction when you guys turned it on."

"I'm almost glad you just took the TV, now," Lisa replied, giving into her own chuckles at my retaliation ideas. "Those ideas are evil."

"Villain," I returned unfazed. "By unconfirmed reputation, anyways. But, in the end after considering everything, I decided to go with the traditional American burglar classic. Really, you can't go wrong with the classics and I was just trying to get my point across."

"Which you did, kudos," Lisa returned wryly. Looking over my shoulder again, she quickly pulled out a piece of paper, scribbling something on it. "He's going to be back in a moment. Listen, if you change your mind, or decide that you would be amenable to at least working with us, call me. If not, maybe we could at least agree to steer clear if we happen to stumble across the other? In this city, I'd take neutrality over a frenemy any day."

"That works for me," I agreed, putting her number inside one of my coat pockets.

"Thanks," she said, leaving just as abruptly as she sat down.

"Well," I muttered to myself, "that could have gone a lot worse."

Which, it could have. Also really good response time in finding me considering she didn't have much to work with. Then again, this whole thing could have just been a coincidence. She might have just been avoiding her teammate's ire and took a walk and found me sitting here.

Maybe. Doubtful.

Clockblocker sighing as he retook his seat brought me out of my thoughts. Giving him an understanding smile, I asked, "All good?"

"Yeah," he answered wearily. "I can already see the interrogation back at base."

"Blood is in the water and the gators are hungry," I chuckled knowingly.

"That's so close it isn't even funny," Clock said, chuckling despite his comment. "But, worth it as long they don't come back. Sorry it took so long, Vista was having trouble with her giggle fit."

"I can imagine…"

"Uh oh," Clockblocker chuckled. "I know that look. What now? Please tell me it's not a villain? I'll never live it down if we got into a cape fight tonight."

"Not quite," I mumbled. "It appears I have my own entourage."

"Seriously?" he asked surprised, shaking his head. "Man, what is up with everyone's interest? First Gallant reads me the riot act all the way back to headquarters, then he narcs on me and Redneck yells at me."

"Redneck?" I asked, slightly confused while keeping an eye on my watchers. That name didn't sound familiar.

"Deputy Director Renick," Clock groused. "Usually a cool guy, you know, for a boss, but he got all bent out of shape talking about PR and stuff when Gallant narced on me. Actually told me I couldn't come tonight, which was half the reason why I was late."

"You...defied the Deputy Director of the PRT to meet with me?" I asked softly. It was, without a doubt, one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for me. That didn't even include that he was a hero bucking the system just to hang out with me.

"I mean, what the hell, right?" Clockblocker continued to complain, thankfully, not catching my momentary slip. "I mean, where does he get off telling us who we can or can't see? It's not like you're Purity or something. I can actually see where that would be a stupid move without, you know, her being old enough to be my mom."

"So, how did you get out if they said you couldn't?" I couldn't help but ask, more than a little curious.

"That, is a rebellious tale of great daring, courage, and skill," he said dramatically. "Or it would have been if Vista hadn't helped me."

"No wonder she followed us," I chuckled at him. "Payment for services rendered."

"Funny enough, that was actually her argument when I told her to get lost," he said playfully. "But she could only help me get out of the building without Renick or Gallant noticing. I was trying to flag down a cab when Assault spotted me and gave me a ride. I actually would have been right on time but he got a call and had to drop me off."

"Which explains why he isn't around spying on us," I said jokingly. "With, it seems, everyone else either of us knows."

Clockblocker nodded in agreement. "So, what are we going to do with your followers? They're not capes, right? I was serious about not wanting to get into a cape fight tonight. As awesome as it would be to smite evil and make myself look good, I'm rather enjoying what we're doing right now."

"As am I," I answered taking out my phone, dialing Danny's house.

"Do you need a moment?"

"Not unless you have enhanced hearing."

"No, baseline there, though the rest of me is rather extraordinary," he said flirtatiously.

Allowing a small smile to form, I looked directly into his opaque lenses after giving him an obvious once over. "It's not bad, actually."

" _Hebert residence,"_ Danny's greeted over the phone.

"Call them off."

" _Renée, I have no idea…"_

I rolled my eyes at his horribly transparent lie. "Oh, so they are not here because you asked them to be? Good to know. That means they're pedo creepers and we can hurt them."

" _Ah, please don't,"_ Danny quickly responded. " _John has an early shift tomorrow."_

Ignoring Clockblocker stifling his laughter at my comments, I smirked. "Then next time someone feeds you my location, you might want to ask yourself just who the joke is on."

Danny sighed, " _I was set up, wasn't I?"_

"Yes, I'm pretty sure you were, and I'll talk with them about that later," I confirmed. There was only one way Danny could have known we changed plans, and that was if someone told him. Which meant Jess. But, I would plan revenge later.

Maybe Tattletale _would_ get that TV back, after all.

"However, I do appreciate the dramatics. It's...nice."

Hearing him chuckle I knew he understood what I was trying to say. " _Alright, I'll call off my mooks."_

"Please," I said, trying to not smile at his tone. "I'll see you later."

" _Alright, Renée. I'll see you soon."_

Hanging up, I shook my head smiling apologetically at Clockblocker. "Who do you think will show up next? I'm half expecting a troop of girl scout ninjas to jump us now."

"Whoa," he said, leaning back and looking around wearily. "Hey now, don't do that! This is Brockton Bay and there are three things you absolutely don't do in this city. You don't piss off Director Piggot, you don't piss on Murphy, and last but certainly not least, you do not tempt fate! It's begging for something to happen!"

Giving in to my amusement, I laughed holding up my hands. "Sorry! I'm new."

"If anything happens now, I'm so blaming you," he continued, shoulders sagging at the perceived inevitability.

Over the next hour, nothing did happen, which I think we were both rather happy about. Even better, I didn't spot anyone else following us the whole time.

Our walk eventually led us near a vendor who made t-shirts, and somehow Clockblocker actually talked me into posing in one with him. The quality was about what you would expect - not fantastic or professional, but decent - and it was still hilarious to see both of us standing back to back, smirking, on an actual t-shirt.

"See," Clockblocker smirked. "I told you we'd look good on a t-shirt together."

From there our travels eventually brought us to the piers I briefly visited weeks ago and we managed to get one all to ourselves. Most of the time was spent just looking out over the water, or up at the stars. Conversation was light and even our silences weren't awkward.

However, like all decent things I guess, the evening got late. Sitting next to me, Clockblocker obviously thought so too, as he turned to me at the same time I turned toward him. It was only then I realized just how close we were sitting next to each other, and how close our faces were.

"I really do think you're eyes are pretty," he blurted. Thankfully, not loudly, but it still seemed to come out of nowhere.

Licking my lips, I whispered, "You better know what you're doing, Clock."

"What?"

"This," I clarified, moving my hand to indicate both of us.

"Maybe you could make it a bit clearer for the clueless guy in the conversation?" Even though his joke fell flat, it was typical Clockblocker, as I'd learned this evening. "I feel like I'm missing something."

"If...if you're just looking for a friend, I can do that," I said softly. "And that would be fine, considering everything. But, if you're looking for...something else, you need to understand something."

"I'm listening."

"I play a lot of games, gamble on the most absurd of things without a care if I win or lose, but never with something like this. Not with... _someone_. So I'll tell you what I told M...someone else, once. I don't share and I don't take second place to anyone or anything. I expect that from people I'm...close to."

Taking out a card, I slipped it into his breast pocket. I had my number on it having decided earlier that things were going well enough that, if nothing else, Clock was good people to hang out with. Actually meant to give it to him earlier, but one thing led to another and I'd forgotten about it till now.

Seeing the question on his lips, I shook my head. "Don't answer tonight, I wouldn't believe it anyways. Think about it, then call me. Either way, I had a lot of fun tonight with you, Clockblocker."


	24. Devil in the Church: Interlude

**Devil in the Church: Interlude**

Console duty, on the best of days, sucked.

There were two reasons why a Ward ended up on console. You either screwed up, or had the bad luck to be scheduled for it because no one else had screwed up enough recently to rate desk work.

Unsurprisingly, Dennis wasn't here because he was scheduled to be.

It wasn't so much the sitting around part. That wasn't so bad when you had a giant tinkertech TV screen to play your favorite movie or game on. If that didn't appeal, there was always Parahumans Online surfing. Or trolling depending on what the crackpots were up to. Those guys were always good for a laugh.

Nor was it being stuck at base while everyone else was out. Seriously, who wanted that kind of attention anyways? Especially since patrols rarely got any action. Well, unless you were Sophia. She always found something. But for the rest of them, not so much. Most of the time could be best described as, 'Smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.'

No, it was the dead time that got to Dennis. That damning silence that existed between scheduled check-ins from the patrol team. He never did do quiet time well, but it had been especially bad during this last week.

A quick look around the empty room reconfirming he was alone, Dennis took out the playing card that had -admittedly- been weighing on his thoughts more and more lately.

The Queen of Hearts. Was there any significance to that? That she had chosen that specific card? She had given him the same card when she'd given him the address to pick her up. And she had said that she'd had a good time, and at the end there, he'd thought, maybe, but she'd told him to think about things and now he was confused.

Admittedly, it hadn't been the best date. But it also hadn't been the worst he'd heard of, and she hadn't ditched him halfway through like he'd thought she might have. Okay, it had been awkward at first, but once they'd gotten out of that damn restaurant, things had started going pretty good. Dennis knew she hadn't been telling him everything with her answers during their question game, but he understood why.

Okay, yeah, she was kind-of a villain. Close enough to one that Dean was _always_ bringing it up whenever the topic of Gambit came up. Enough so that even Missy was getting sick of hearing about it and had taken avoiding the stalwart teen hero whenever he started in on it. Which, considering the massive crush Missy had on Dean, was saying something.

At least it wasn't just him sick of hearing that argument.

According to the file Ethan managed to sneak them from the New Orleans branch of the PRT, the only evidence they had of her breaking the law was circumstantial. On the other side of the coin was that she worked multiple part time jobs, helped out at an orphanage, and was believed to be the only reason three soup kitchens and two shelters stayed open. She didn't get into cape fights often. Of those times she did, she usually won and made sure they were unconscious for the PRT to pick up.

If she was a villain like Dean harped about, what kind of villain was she?

Which brought him back to the question that had been haunting him for the last week. Why hadn't he called her?

"You're such a girl."

"Shut up, Chris," Dennis mumbled, putting the card away again.

Snickering, the normally shy teen sat next to him. "Seriously, why haven't you called her already? It's driving Missy and me nuts. You guys looked like you were having a blast during your date."

"And look how well that turned out," he groused.

"So you got yelled at by Renick and Dean," Chris chuckled. "That's Tuesday for you. They're always yelling at you for something. You knew it was going to happen when you took off."

Dennis nodded.

"So, why haven't you called her?"

And that was the question.

"It's not that easy, man," Dennis sighed. "Gambit isn't like the girls at school. She's…"

"Which is why I don't understand why you haven't called her yet," Chris interrupted. "Maybe if you did, it would finally shut up Dean about her."

"It's because of Dean I haven't."

"Why?"

"We hung out and stuff, and that was great once we got out of that stupid restaurant. I can handle Dean, but what if he says something to her? Like that New Orleans Ward in her file. Maybe she's cool with hanging out again and we're doing something and he finds out and shows up to ruin it?"

"Dunno, she blows him up or something?" Chris half joked. "That is her power according to what is known. It's not like Dean hasn't been smacked around by a girl before. Hell, GG does it all the time."

"And that would make everything so much better."

"At least it would shut Dean up."

"And probably piss off Collateral Damage Barbie enough to take a swing at Gambit for damaging her boyfriend. You know how she is when girls even look at him funny."

"Dude, Gambit took out that big villain before she moved to the Bay. According to Assault, that guy could hit way harder than Glory Girl. I think Gambit can take care of herself."

"Yeah, but I'd rather she didn't have to defend herself from my friends."

Which, was the problem, Dennis thought to himself. While he didn't mind the flack from his colleagues and friends, he wasn't so sure he could do that to Gambit. She'd had it rough enough, something he could tell by the way she'd answered questions during their date. Not that she had given him anything specific to work with, but that she hadn't spoke volumes.

Not that he really knew enough about her or what she thought of things. She _had_ given him her number. That was a good, right?

Sighing, Dennis shook his head. "I wish there was someone I could talk to about this kind of thing. Too bad Rory graduated. Ever since he joined the Protectorate he's been way too busy to hang out with us. Rory always seemed to know about these kinds of things."

"Yeah, but adult hero stuff. Not much we can do about it, you know? What about Assault? He helped before."

"Maybe, if I knew where he was," Dennis answered. "I haven't seen him all week."

Chris nodded. "I wonder what he's doing?"

"No idea. Probably some case he got assigned or something."

"He would just call you a girl for not manning up and calling Gambit."

"He would have helped me by making Dean back off."

"Probably. While calling you a girl."

 _XxX Gambit XxX_

"You're bluffing."

"It will cost you two shortbreads and three thin mints to know for sure," the preteen girl across from him said.

Eyes narrowing behind his visor, Assault looked down at the few cookies he had left before adding the requirement to the pool. Even if she wasn't bluffing, he had three jacks. Those cookies were as good as his. "Call."

Next to him, Gambit watched silently, a gimlet twinkle in her black eyes as she folded. "I might be a gambling woman, but there are some bets you just don't take."

"Seriously?"

"Three thin mints," Gambit lazily replied. "Must be a heck of a hand."

Behind the kid across from him, a gaggle of her friends -all of whom had already lost all their cookies in previous rounds- giggled behind their hands, whispering to each other while the pint-sized card shark still seated at the table smirked knowingly as she put down her cards.

Three kings.

When his jaw dropped, her friends cheered and swamped the girl, offering congratulations.

Turning quickly back to Gambit, Assault pointed at her cards, saying, "You said that when she chews her hair it's a tell that she's bluffing!"

"I did," Gambit laughed.

"She wasn't bluffing."

"No, she wasn't."

"She chewed her hair!"

"She did, but she was smirking when she did it," Gambit explained, fighting her obvious amusement over his mock outrage. "You were sitting right there when I explained everyone's tells after Marcy asked about them. Face it, _mon cher,_ Angela played you."

Giggles and laughter erupted from the young girls, mixed with chuckles from several of their watching parents. Sighing, he slumped in his seat, playing the part of the sucker while trying to fight his own smile at the kids.

Getting up when Gambit did, they moved away from the table, letting the girls take over. Stopping under the banner, Gambit whispered, "Thanks. I know birthday parties are not really part of the whole hero thing at your level."

"No problem. I've wanted to meet your Girl Scouts ever since I heard about them," he chuckled. "Besides, they're good kids. Except for her, she's evil."

Chuckling herself, Gambit nodded. "Ma Petite is crafty, no doubt. Best hope she never gets powers. It won't be a month before she takes over the city. Pretty sure Chubster would help her if she kept him supplied in cookies. Which, she would."

"She knows Chubster?"

"She was helping her friend sell her share and asked me to help. I took them to meet him and they sold him thirty boxes of cookies," Gambit smirked. "Marcy was so excited about it, it wouldn't surprise me if it turned out to be a new record. They would have sold him more, but his wife wouldn't cover it when he asked her for more money. Good thing for Chubster we caught him between rent collections otherwise I think she would have been really mad when he turned up empty handed except for a wagon of cookies."

"Chubster's married?"

Gambit chuckled.

Looking over the laughing and joking group, his attention was caught by the sole girl who wasn't joining in. Just standing on the outskirts of the group with a smile that screamed fake.

"Is she okay?"

"Not sure," Gambit answered. "Angela mentioned she was having a hard time recently."

"Oh? Something happen?" Assault asked concerned.

"Sort of," Gambit answered. "There was a drive by about a month ago. Not your usual cape gang stuff, just normal people hating people. Apparently Dinah saw it happen. She's been shook up ever since. Real quiet and it's rare she leaves her house outside of school. Even at school, Angela said she's quiet and tends to keep to herself."

"Damn."

"Yeah. It's kind of a big thing that she even came here tonight. I think having a hero here helped."

"Please," Assault snorted. "These kids love you. I'm surprised you haven't taken over the troop yet."

"If Angela and Marcy had their way, I would have," Gambit chuckled. "As it is, I don't think their parents like me very much."

Across the room several of the girls parents mingled. Occasionally one of them looked their way, gazes a mix of curiosity and admiration toward him, while Gambit received looks of mistrust or suspicion. Thankfully, those looks had tapered off as they watched them interact with the kids.

"Probably because you're teaching their kids how to play poker."

"Marcy wanted me to teach them to pick locks," Gambit snorted. "Elizabeth and Veronica keep asking me to teach them sleight of hand. Don't ask what Angela wanted me to teach them. Poker was my compromise."

"Great," Assault muttered. "Just what this city needs. Cute little Girl Scouts who can break into your house and lift your wallet when they're not fleecing you at card games. It was bad enough when they just sold cookie crack. Now they'll attack your wallet from both ends! Get your money one way or another. How'd you even get involved with them?"

"Just seemed to happen," Gambit chuckled fondly. "Met Angela my first day in Brockton Bay and things sort of went from there. When I mentioned to her I used to actually be a Girl Scout she insisted I come to one of their meetings. That's where I met most of the others. Even wore my old sash over my armor. They loved that. Their parents, not so much."

"I bet," Assault snorted. "I would have answered that call when it came in but I was laughing too hard and Battery wouldn't let me go since I lacked the ability to behave myself. Triumph said good things when he came back, even if he looked kind of embarrassed. I haven't seen Prism laugh like that since last year's Christmas party when Mouse Protector showed up and spent the whole night hitting on Armsmaster."

"Glad I could entertain you," Gambit said dryly. "Though as to his embarrassment, I think that might have been because I talked him into helping me show the kids how to tie a knot."

"Not sure I get that."

"They practiced by tying up Triumph and seeing if he could get out of it."

"No wonder Prism's laughing made him blush like that," Assault laughed. "I bet that never made it into the report."

"Probably not," Gambit agreed, chuckling herself and ignoring the extra attention Assault's laughter was bringing them.

Shaking her head at his antics, Gambit turned to him. "Thanks again for showing up. It means a lot to the girls. Are you sure I can't convince you to take the money?"

"Nope," he replied joyfully. "I know how things work, Gambit, but something like this isn't about respect between capes."

"You're still into me for twenty-five," I reminded him. "Getting five of it back shouldn't bring up any red flags, if that is something your worried about."

"Even if Protectorate heroes didn't have to work in a different rule bracket, I wouldn't take it for something like this, Gambit"

"We both know this is not about Angela's birthday party, Assault. It's about being seen with me."

It was about seeming legitimacy was what she meant, and both knew it. Even in a small circle like a kids birthday party, being seen with a legitimate hero gave Gambit -even under rogue standards- a certain kind of air. If nothing else, it definitely put her on the neutral side of the line.

"And like I told you when you asked, I don't have a problem with that," Assault said. "Of course, that changes if you get caught breaking the law or are suspected of it. But until then, we're good."

"It doesn't work that way. It's _never_ worked that way."

"It can."

Gambit frowned.

Shrugging, Assault turned away to watch the kids having fun. "I'm serious."

"Is this another Wards pitch?"

Allowing his smile to show he didn't deny it.

"Two pitches in the same amount of weeks," Gambit mumbled. "I've never been so popular. When I left New Orleans everyone there hated me. Always suspicious. Always… condescending. Like because I didn't want to join the Protectorate I was a villain regardless of the good I did. Just because I looked different."

"It's not easy, straddling the line in today's cape world," Assault said low enough that only Gambit would hear. "There's always lots of talk about how -in general- people prefer to see capes as rogues but we both know the reality of that life. Rogues are only rogues until someone decides they should pick a side and even a lot of villains are only labeled as much because of one bad decision that can't be taken back."

When she didn't reply, Assault asked, "Would it surprise you if I told you I have some experience with this?"

"Yes."

"It doesn't happen much," Assault said. "But sometimes. Especially if the cape isn't well known or objectionable. I was borderline when I switched. Before that I was an active villain for some time. Even had a hero nemesis and everything. I was making a ridiculous amount of money doing what I did. Helped people sometimes and lived how I wanted, by my own rules. I had it pretty good. Ate what I wanted, lots of nice top shelf things, all that stuff. But you know what I didn't have?"

"Your mask on a brand name cereal box?"

"A life," he continued, his tone surprisingly serious, making sure to look directly into the girls hellish eyes. "Straddling the line means large groups will use you, but won't let you get close in case you end up on opposite sides later. The same with small groups and most indies will sell you out faster than you can blink if it means you or them.

"Which meant I was alone a lot outside of my civilian ID, and what good was that? Can't tell them what you do for a living which means you spend most of your time lying to everyone who even remotely matters. You can't really live like that."

"So what," Gambit asked flatly. "You just decided one day that enough was enough? Time to see what the other side was like?"

"No," Assault answered evenly. "I almost killed my nemesis."

Gambit blinked.

"I was on a job," he explained. "We had this thing going for months by then. I'd do a job, she'd show up and we'd banter and fight it out. Never stopped me from completing my contracts, which pissed her off like you wouldn't believe.

"It was fun, like adding a challenge by handicapping myself. After a while she was getting pretty good and our bouts always brought something new, which was just a bonus. After a while I didn't think she might interrupt me, I expected it. Even purposely let slip things now and then to make sure she heard about it so she could."

"That… that sounds pretty damn hard to believe, to be honest. You're about the most cordial member of the Protectorate I've ever met. Even if you're a bit of an ass sometimes."

Assault grinned, but then sighed and continued. "It's true though. Then there was that fight and it was great. She gave it all she had and far more than I was expecting, but things kept escalating. By the end of it her whole team was out and it was just us. We traded insults and jibes as well as powered blows. She just wouldn't give up, and I didn't want her to. Then she made a mistake, and I had her dead to rights.

"I knew I had her. _She_ knew I had her, but I knew that if I did it, I'd hurt her. Not just a little hurt, but hurt her badly. I knew that if I crossed that line I would lose whatever it was we had going. Already it felt like I was at a tipping point and was going to lose no matter what I did."

"What happened?"

"I couldn't do it," Assault answered honestly. "I played it off by being the gloating monologuing villain, but it didn't change anything. I took off, confused about everything. Between that job and the next I realized that whatever this thing was between us, it was the most honest relationship I had ever had with anyone since I'd gotten powers. This rivalry, it was more real than anything else I had going on in my life prior. So the next time we fought, I put up a good fight, but let her catch me and struck a deal with the Protectorate."

Gambit paused for a long moment. "Maybe I'm not as alone as you think I am."

Her silence had already given away how much she related. Assault didn't know her exact circumstances, but even with what she'd said about the Protectorate in New Orleans, she was missing something here, that she'd had back there. A hole that even teaching girl scouts how to tie knots couldn't fill.

"Once upon a time, I said the same thing," Assault countered.

"Just something to think about," he added when Gambit didn't reply. "Before you find yourself in a similar situation, or worse, the choice is made for you. Both are likely the way things are in the cape world now. Especially in this city."

"You're not the first person to mention something like that," Gambit said. "That there was something about this city not liking neutrality."

"It doesn't," Assault stated. "If you're a villain and white, you'll end up with the Empire, or killed by them at some point. Same if you're Asian, just with ABB. As much as I don't like either, both are better than getting hooked on something and joining the Merchants, but they don't always give you the choice. The other groups are not much better, but make no mistake, every rogue eventually picks a side in Brockton Bay. With villains, it's just a matter of which poison is your flavor and we both know you're not a rogue."

Turning revealed Gambit looking back at him, stone faced with an eyebrow raised. Assault chuckled. "I've read your file and I'm uniquely qualified to be able to read between the lines. I'll say it, you're good. Especially considering how old you are and what you've gotten done in just two years."

"Assuming you're right, why the pitch?" Gambit asked blandly. "Shouldn't you be arresting me instead of hanging out at a birthday party?"

"I will, if it comes to it. But I'm hoping that doesn't prove necessary."

"Why?"

"Because for everything you've done -and we both know you've done your share and then some- I think being a hero would suit you more than being a villain."

"And what if I don't want to be a hero?" Gambit asked.

"I think you've already made your choice," Assault answered, waving his hand over the giggling preteen girls. "I just don't think you're aware of your options. And you have options, Gambit. Options that maybe didn't exist in New Orleans. Or maybe didn't exist the same way they do here?"

"I don't have a good track record with heroes. They tend to want to arrest me or fight. Usually both."

"Well, there's two in Brockton Bay that don't."

Gambit snorted in denial. "He never called me."

"He's young. And a guy," Assault snickered. "But mostly he's a guy. We do stuff like not calling the girl we like because we're idiots."

"Maybe."

"Well, I know that neither Vista nor Kid Win dislike you."

"They haven't met me yet," Gambit retorted.

Assault nodded putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Think about it."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You never said what happened with your nemesis. That rivalry thing you guys had."

"No, I guess I didn't."

"So what happened?"

"I married her," Assault smirked. "The Protectorate got a new 'hero' and I got my puppy. Best decision I ever made. The only regret I have is how long it took me to do it."

With that, Assault walked away and toward the kids. Once again to wish the birthday girl a happy birthday and say goodbye to the others before shaking hands with the adults. By the time he was leaving, Gambit was once again surrounded by chattering girls, answering questions or telling a story, by the looks on their faces.

Noticeably, the troubled girl he noticed earlier was sitting right next to Gambit, her face just as enthralled by what was being said as the others, with no trace of the worry or stress that had been there before.

And she didn't think of herself as a hero.

Just as he stepped outside, his phone rang. Checking the ID, he almost laughed as he answered it.

"Hey Clock, I was just talking about you…"


	25. Devil in the Church: Chapter 1

**Devil in the Church: Chapter 1**

Hitting the roof in a roll, I quickly extended my staff while getting back to full speed, allowing me to vault across the street below me to the next roof. Once back on my feet again, I looked at the warehouse, which was my destination tonight.

Still no sentries.

A light pole with a burnt out bulb was my ticket back to the street. Buildings were sparse in this part of the bay. According to Danny, this area used to be storage warehouses back in the day, so that wasn't really surprising. Still, there was plenty of cover to mask my approach until I was over the wire and on my target's lot.

This close I could hear a faint ruckus from the old building, which confirmed Danny's intel that it was used on occasion. The last time I was here it was silent, so at least this wouldn't be a wasted trip.

I quickly made my way across the empty lot. After checking the corner and still not seeing any sentries, I shimmied up the rusted drain pipe to the roof. Industrial windows stood in a line moving down the building, thankfully all closed and covered by years of dirt and grime. Still, they were just clear enough to see the telltale signs of electric lights below. From here the noise I heard earlier was clearer. People shouting and cheering.

Keeping to the edge and away from the windows, I made my way down the building. From my previous scouting run I knew most of them opened into the warehouse's main expanse, which wasn't what I wanted. I wanted the office window at the end.

Despite all the noise generated from the small crowd inside, I kept my steps light and moved carefully. This building wasn't in that bad of a shape and I doubted anyone would hear me up here, but that didn't mean I should take unnecessary chances.

Thankfully, everything went to plan and I arrived at my entry point.

Someone had had the foresight to spray paint the window from the inside, but whoever it was hadn't put in much effort beyond the minimum. While it was mostly blacked out, there were streaks where the paint was thin that allowed me a glimpse inside.

Two big men. The kind of big I was learning to associate with Empire enforcers. Bulging muscles, tattoos, scars, and of course, white. One was behind a desk running stacks of money through an electric counter while the other read from a clipboard. The noise from the main warehouse was dimmer here, allowing me to hear them muttering something to each other.

Clipboard turned from his work, looking through the blinds of a big window that might have once been used by managers past to watch the workers below. He turned and laughed to Desk.

The crunch of gravel sounded below. Turning from the window, I looked over the edge, seeing the sentries I had missed earlier. Two more enforcers were joking with each other as they walked parallel to the building. It was hard to tell from my position, but I was pretty sure both were carrying pistols tucked under their arms. There was a subtle difference to the gait of people who were carrying to those who weren't, and these two had it.

Cupping my hands, I blew into them to keep my fingers warm. If they were here, then the other pair should be on the other side of the building. Unless there wasn't another pair, because the gap I had used to get here was far too large for there to be three or more. Either way, it was telling. They either didn't expect to get hit, or were so arrogant that even if they did, they figured they could handle it and only put up a token patrol.

Voices in the office brought me back to the window once I was sure those below wouldn't notice my silhouette, should they happen to look up. Clipboard had put away his clipboard, and Desk was kneeling next to my wall. I couldn't see what he was doing but I had a good idea.

I'd noted the small safe when I scouted the building last week. It had been empty when I'd cracked it, but Desk was filling it with the money he counted now.

I watched him do it, bantering with Clipboard, who was glued to the window and looking impatient. Finished with his task, Desk got up, grabbed his own clipboard and clapped the other man on the shoulder before both left.

Perfect.

Not sure how long I was going to have, but confident that it would take a bit before they returned, I eased open the window. Normally, these things only opened from the inside, but I had taken care of that last week. Thankfully, they hadn't noticed my alterations, and once it was open wide enough, I slid inside.

The manager's window offered a perfect view of the warehouse's interior. However, instead of what managers past would have seen -working people doing working people things- the view showed a giant caged encirclement. Inside, two guys -heavily bruised and bloody- were bare knuckle fighting for the crowd around them.

Both were young and even from here looked scared out of their minds as they beat the hell out of each other. The crowd cheered and groaned with each hit and went wild when one landed a blow that sent a spray of blood from the other's split eyebrow.

Several small cages stacked together stood against the far wall. Two more enforcers were standing in front of them, also watching the fight which meant that tonight's fight wasn't just going to be with people. Dogs, most likely, and by the look of things, that event hadn't started yet.

Desk and Clipboard came into view next, walking away from the stairs leading to the ground floor and heading to a couple that were also watching the fight. Unlike the crowd though, these two had an area around them clear of other people at least six feet wide.

The smaller figure turned first revealing what looked like a wire face mask. A touch on the guy next them showed he was similarly masked, which meant capes. Both had body postures that screamed dangerous. Desk handed something to the blond man before turning to the fight.

At least two capes. That explained why security was so light.

Turning away from the window I took a quick assessment of the room I was in. It was mostly bare, just like before, with additions that made sense for what was going on. Money counter, a couple of boxes that they'd most likely brought in just for tonight, the computer was new, and of course, lots of weapons. Pistols that had most likely been taken from the crowd on entry were stacked in a box close to the door, but there were a few rifles as well.

Looking back through the window showed Desk and Clipboard were answering questions from the big cape. Well, Desk was answering questions. Clipboard was cheering with the crowd.

I could work with that. However, instead of getting to it, I frowned, eyes locked on the scared kids in the ring.

I really didn't like owing people. Gambit didn't owe people. Not money, nor favors. People owed Gambit. That was the backbone of the Guild. That was how I'd gotten as far as I had, by doing favors for others and keeping the ledger green.

But my ledger wasn't green, was it? Because Assault had done me a favor, and then wouldn't let me pay him for it. Which if half of what he told me earlier was true, meant he knew what he did and what it meant. That put me in his pocket.

And that, was unacceptable, but fixable. Just needed to make a few adjustments.

One last check on Desk and Clipboard revealed them to be still occupied. Moving away from the window, I locked the door, hitting it with a touch of my power. The next person to open it wasn't going to be happy and it would buy me time in case they surprised me by coming back before I was done.

Next I moved around the room hitting all the weapons. Specifically, spending a second to give the hammers of each a smaller dose than I had the door. The next time anyone tried to fire them was going to be the last. An old trick I'd used on several occasions to spoil the party favors of people like this.

Besides, I'd always hated guns. Specifically, the morons who used them like these people seem to. Only amateurs needed guns to do a job. There was no excuse for lack of skill. Either get better, or find another line of work. Just that simple.

Finished with that, I gave the window one last check, seeing everyone still absorbed in the fight, this time with a couple of fresh guys just getting started. The capes seemed done with Desk and Clipboard and the foursome were watching the new fight get going.

Plenty of time, then.

Kneeling next to the safe, I pulled my burner phone and dialed. I put the it on the desk, listening to the ringing in my ear bud while cracking the safe, since someone had changed the combination since last week.

"PRT Emergency Response, what is your emergency?"

"Listen carefully as I'm only going to say this once," I instructed quietly while slowly turning the safe dial. "At 502 Joshua Drive there is a warehouse. Inside it, Empire Eighty Eight is hosting a fight. People at the moment but there's dog cages in back. Not sure if they've finished that part or not. At least four armed sentries and two capes. A big guy with a metal mask and greasy blond hair, and a rough looking woman with a wire grill-like mask. Did you get that?"

"Yes," the professional sounding woman immediately answered.

"Around twenty plus in the crowd," I said swinging open the safe. Continuing as I moved my satchel in front of me and started loading it. "Upstairs is an old office they are using. There's a computer and safe. Inside the safe is a bunch of paperwork. No idea what it all is, but I'm sure you will know what to do with it if you get here fast enough to claim it."

Closing the safe, I took a moment to concentrate. Thick metal was always a pain to work but it didn't take longer than a few seconds for the lock to snap into place loudly, which was what I wanted.

"The door to the office is trapped, as are the weapons but I figure most of them come from the fight spectators, so don't expect security to be unarmed. The safe is frozen shut, so unless they take it, you're going to need to cut it open."

"You're inside, aren't you?"

"Not anymore," I whispered as I eased my way through the window. "I'm leaving but I'm leaving this phone behind for you to track. If they get panicked, they might take it with them, figuring it belongs to one of theirs. If you want to take out a piece of the Empire, move fast. These things usually don't last but a few hours and they'll scatter once someone tries getting back into that office."

"Wait, who is this?"

"And tell Assault we're even," I finished, taking out my ear bud and frying it with my power.

Mangled tech thrown aside, I quickly checked to see if the coast was clear. Not seeing the sentries, I jumped down. No shouts of alarm broke out before I went back over the wire but I didn't slow or stop until I was long gone and safely back on rooftops well into my evasion route.

What did stop me was the sound of two vehicles rushing down the road. A motorcycle, and a jeep. The bike was obviously tinkertech and easily recognizable, even to me, and I'd only been in city a little while.

But Armsmaster was a well known cape, even in Louisiana. Seeing him cutting through the night on his tinker bike, I could see why. His power armor gleamed in the poor street lights as he raced his way through the city, making me think of all those fairy tales I'd read when I had been with the Rats. Like a techno knight on his silver steed, Armsmaster charged into the black. Off to smite evil in the name of good.

Next to him was another easily identifiable cape. Stars and stripes scarf wrapped around the lower side of her face, Miss Militia kept pace in her jeep. No less the image of a great heroine despite her lack of tinker armor. Her confidence was her armor and no matter how flimsy that might seem, she had the reputation to back it up.

 _Those are real heroes, Assault. Sorry_ mon cher, _but no matter what you think, this is as heroic as Gambit gets._

"Good luck," I whispered into the night knowing they wouldn't hear it.

 _XxX Gambit XxX_

It took almost an hour before I felt confident enough no one was following me to head home and I was never so happy to see Danny's house.

It had been a long night and it wasn't even nine.

Last weekend, Danny and I had replaced the exterior paint ourselves. Cleaned the gutters and even went so far as to repair the front porch. Now neither of us had to worry about that third step breaking and catching an ankle. In a lot of ways it was amazing how just those few things changed the look of the old place. It was definitely a sight for tired eyes.

The strange car out front, not so much. It seemed like my night wasn't over yet. Moving closer, I stepped around the house taking a peek through the living room window.

Danny was sitting on the couch next to a woman I hadn't seen before. About his age, slim, and well dressed. Not fancy as if she was expecting to go out on the town, but respectable enough for a social visit. Her dark hair fell just past her shoulders framing in her face in a way that looked styled. Both of them were talking; looking concerned.

Crap. Was that tonight?

Sighing, I headed to the back door; letting myself in and being instantly greeted by Danny walking into the kitchen. Eyes flickering over me looking for damage that wasn't there.

"Renée, I was worried. I tried calling but you didn't answer."

"Had that phone turned off after I left Angela's. Sorry I missed dinner," I greeted him tiredly. "Lost track of time after the party."

Signing, Danny shook his head. "It's alright, we waited for you."

Giving him a pained smile, I turned to the woman entering behind him.

"Bonjour Lillian," I greeted her. "I apologize for being late."

Wide eyed silence met my greeting as Lillian blinked several times in surprise. I was going to chalk it up to my eyes, until hers kept moving over my body. Looking down I realized what had her attention. My armor.

"I'll just be a few moments," I commented in the awkward silence. "Put away a few things and change. Excuse me."

Offering an awkward smile, I moved around them and headed up stairs making sure to close my bedroom door behind me. On my bed, was the outfit I set out this morning for tonight.

This was so Assault's fault. If he just would have taken the money, I would have been here way earlier and wouldn't have had to stick around to trap that office.

Taking down the hanging picture of a waterfall, I just managed to unlock the hidden cubby in the wall when Danny knocked on the door.

"Renée?"

"I'm decent, come in."

"Are you alright…"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered. Putting the aside the false wall panel, I opened my satchel and started adding my take from tonight to the rest. "I really am sorry about being late."

At his silence I turned. Danny just stood there, staring. After a moment, he blinked away his confusion quickly closing the door behind him.

"What is that?" he hissed while looking pointedly at the satchel.

"What is what?"

"That!"

"My satchel?"

"No, what you're talking out of it and putting in the wall."

"Oh. Money."

"What?"

Looking back I nodded to his point. "I know it's ridiculous, but I haven't found a reliable cleaner yet and I can't help how other people store their money. Stacks of tens and twenties isn't high on my list of good ideas either but until I find a good launder I won't be able to convert them into hundreds. Sure, I generally keep a few stacks of twenties lying around, but for cold storage, hundreds generally work better. Less space and usually easier to move from location to location."

"Not the point, Renée," Danny stressed looking pale. "Not the point. How much do you have hiding within the insulation?"

"Pretty sure I topped fifty after tonight," I noted, finishing moving tonight's take to the wall.

"Thousand?" he asked weakly.

"I'd never get fifty million in your walls, Danny," I chuckled. Biting my lip I considered it for a moment before adding. "At least, not this wall. Maybe if I converted the old coal chute into storage. But that's too obvious a spot, and honestly, if I had that kind of funds lying around I wouldn't keep most of it here anyway. I'd use a guarded safe house until I could use it. Besides, where would I get fifty million in cash from?"

"With you, it wouldn't surprise me if you managed it."

I paused, a bit touched at his faith in my abilities before resuming putting the panel back. "That's sweet, Danny, but even Gambit couldn't pull off fifty million in less than a month without breaking my own rules. As it is, I barely made five in two years working New Orleans. Most of that went right back into the Guild and we never had much more than a couple of hundred on hand at any one time."

"Not what I meant," he sighed, rubbing his face. "We need to talk about this. You said…"

"I'm going stir crazy, Danny," I interrupted as I turned to face him. "Normally Sister Mary needs something or I'm shuffling the Guild around preparing for a job or going to ground after one. Meeting with fences, cleaners, informants, working any of the half dozen part time jobs I had to mask my income, or dealing shifting gang lines.

"Ever since I moved to Brockton Bay, all I've done is look around, Danny. I've never been this lazy and I'm not hitting regular people if that helps. Tonight was an Empire pit fight, and the rest came from a Merchant meth lab Circus and I stumbled across last week while scouting out an ABB casino."

"You're planning to rob an ABB casino?"

"Just a little one," I tried reassuring him. Which, judging by the look on his face, wasn't working. "Ruby Dreams really isn't very big. It's an easy job and they'd never know I was there."

At his disbelieving expression, I added, "It's the not first gang casino I've robbed, Danny. Hell, I robbed that one Two Mauls used to run three times. Besides, I need the funds if I'm going to finance a new crew."

"Renée, you have _school_ tomorrow."

"Just a half day for those assessment tests, and I wouldn't do something like that on a school night, Danny," I reassured him. "There's way more money on weekends and I'm still working out the patrol schedule. I'm at least two weeks from ready since I have to do all the legwork myself."

"Please don't."

"Don't?"

"Don't upset Lung by robbing his casino."

I was going to argue that it wasn't like he would know I was there, but the haggard look on Danny's face stopped me.

If the street rumors my recent informants told me were true, there was still that ABB heroin processing lab over on the north east waterfront I could hit. Payout wouldn't be as good since I was just going for the cash, but still, better than nothing. It was going to be a lot more difficult to rob unseen than the casino though.

Still doable. Sighing, I nodded. "Fine, I won't rob his casino."

"Thank you," Danny whispered, shaking his head before looking worriedly at the door. "We really need to talk about your, _hobby_. Maybe I should tell Lillian we should do this another night."

"No need for that," I argued, smiling when he turned frowning toward me. "I don't have anything really planned for the next couple of days and it's nothing that can't wait. She's here now and she's already seen me in armor, so that gator is out of the bayou. I'll change real quick and we'll talk about this tomorrow after school, alright?"

"We really have to talk about this, Renée," Danny stressed.

"We will," I assured him easily before shooing him from my room. "Now go on and make sure the fact her boyfriend's daughter is a cape hasn't sent her running."

"Renée…"

"Go on," I laughed seeing his pained expression. "I'll be right down. Hopefully she's still here, I've been curious ever since you mentioned her."


	26. Devil in the Church: Chapter 2

**Devil in the Church: Chapter 2**

The steak was okay. A bit tough, but I blamed that mostly on the fact it was supposed to be eaten two hours ago. The gravy was fair, but again that could have been due to the delay and not so much Danny's cooking. The potato salad by contrast, was excellent. Obviously homemade and not store bought, and again, obviously not Danny's work. He really wasn't _that_ bad, but I was spoiled after rooming with Penny for a year. Also, unless it was some kind of pasta, Danny wasn't the most skilled chef.

However, his lasagna was something I'd pay for, which said quite a bit.

"This is very good," I complimented Lillian, earning a startled blink.

"It was nothing really, but thank you."

The table was awash with sounds of cutlery on plate, bowls being passed, the shifting of the three bodies occupying it, and muttered requests for one thing or another, and thank you's.

Very little else. Which made this the longest conversation exchanged by any of us since I had come back downstairs.

The problem, I knew, was that I had legitimately messed up. I shouldn't have forgotten. Not that the dinner was tonight nor to not show up in costume. Even if we got past that, no matter how much I scored tonight, it wasn't worth nearly missing my first meeting with Danny's girlfriend.

I hated feeling guilty and the man was a king of capitalizing on that. Even if he hadn't actually said anything yet.

"Danny mentioned you worked at the city library?" I asked, trying to kill the awkwardness and perhaps salvage something from tonight. If this didn't work, I was seriously considering calling Jess and setting up another game. Sitting in the restaurant with Clockblocker had gone better than this.

I bet Chubster was free. He could even bring his wife, be like a double date thing for Danny and Lillian. I momentarily thought about Clockblocker but even if he had called me, that would have done more for raising the awkwardness levels than lower them. Uber and Leet? They might be interested. Not quite the same thing, but they were pretty funny and with them involved I couldn't see this weirdness surviving. Maybe I could promise to lose for the first hour or something to get them to agree to it? Assault was out, obviously. He'd just use the evening to pitch heroism again or ask questions about that pit fight I called in earlier.

At Lillian's nod, I asked, "How long?"

"Five years now," she answered, thankfully adding more to the conversation as she continued. "For the first four I was working part-time as a technician, helping Margaret with the website. Mostly just routine updates while I finished getting my history bachelor's. Now I run the historical department."

"That's interesting. Sounds a lot like Ms. Barrette."

"I'm sorry. Who?"

"Ms. Barrette was one of the librarians at Milton Latter Library," I explained fondly as I remembered the ancient woman who'd been more kind to me than she'd had any right to. "In New Orleans. It's over on St. Charles Avenue. I didn't even know it was a library at first. Used to be someone's mansion a long time ago. I was just looking for a place to get out of the rain and happened to be following along with a tour group when they went there."

"So you just followed along until you met her?" Danny asked curiously.

Chuckling, I shook my head. "I was just barely inside the doors when Ms. Barrette spotted me. It was obvious I wasn't a tourist. Soaking wet, wearing clothes two sizes bigger than I was and looking about as shifty as a scruffy kid in a rich man's house can look.

"She took one look at me and pulled me from the group. Got me dry, put a cup of hot cocoa in one hand and a book in the other. Left me in one of the upstairs rooms by myself telling me to stay as long as I wanted, and to not damage the books."

"Not the reaction I would have expected," Lillian noted.

"Nor did I," I agreed. "I didn't really know what to do. But, free hot chocolate, and it was dry. So, I drank it and read the book."

"What was the book about?" Lillian asked.

"Fairy tales," I lied convincingly as Lillian smiled.

Danny narrowed his eyes, but thankfully didn't say anything.

"When she checked on me later," I continued ignoring Danny's reaction, "she seemed happy to see me with a different book. Even let me check it out with the promise I would bring it back in the same condition I'd taken it in. I found out a few visits later that she had a love of local history. It didn't take long to learn that Ms. Barrett had forgotten more about New Orleans than anyone had ever known."

"That was really nice of her considering she would have gotten into a lot of trouble if she had been caught," Lillian remarked with a smile. "Sadly, I don't interact very much with the public. Mostly my job is paperwork for the director."

"But still fulfilling, no?" I asked. "To work in your chosen field?"

"Very much so," she replied, smiling warmly.

I didn't need to look to see Danny's frown.

That was more than enough to break the ice and the rest of dinner was less stifled. At least until after it was over and Danny held me back a moment.

"Fairy tales?"

Smiling, I shrugged. "Savate looks like magic to a half starved orphan girl who didn't weigh a hundred pounds even rain-soaked."

At his raised eyebrow, I clarified. "French kickboxing, Danny."

"You know how to kickbox?"

"Gambit can take care of herself," I answered, patting the side of his face, smirking while rejoining Lillian in the living room.

Fortunately, that was the last of the awkwardness while Lillian was with us. The rest of the evening was spent mostly asking the expected questions and listening to her answers. Topics like me being a cape and my time in New Orleans didn't reappear. Instead Lillian asked about how I was settling in and what I thought of going back to school. Or just going as I didn't remember ever having gone to one before. She did offer to help get me caught up to my peers on any subjects I didn't test well in, which was very generous and something I might take her up on depending on how my scores came out.

Smiling wanly at Danny as we watched Lillian's car pull away from the curb, I asked, "Why can't we ever have a nice, normal dinner when other people are involved?"

His laughter did a lot for dispelling the last of the tension between us.

 _XxX Gambit XxX_

My alarm had me awake early the next morning. Despite how long it had taken to finally get to bed, I decided it would be best to get to all the little things I wanted done early. A change of clothes later, I was off on a morning run, a routine that I'd been neglecting far too much lately.

Parked cars and homes passed unnoticed as I moved through the streets at an easy pace, just letting my mind wander. While a lot colder than New Orleans, one thing that hadn't changed was how quiet pre dawn was. Something about that made running through the streets of Brockton Bay nice, despite the chill. It felt like I was the only one around. A great time to get my head straight, which I needed today.

School. What the hell had I been thinking letting Danny talk me into something like that? The Guild was full of people with horror stories about such a place, yet here I was, going out of my way to get into that environment.

I should be using this time to look for work like I did back in New Orleans. One thing Danny had right about our argument last night, I knew I couldn't get away with hitting the big gangs too much more. Sooner or later, they'd get wise to what I was doing, or worse, who was doing it. But for other less risky work, I needed a crew. That meant I needed to get firmly established.

The Boardwalk had a whole host of places that looked like they could use a part time throwaway. Then I could establish patterns for future alibis, making contacts, or possibly even connections once I cemented myself into the nightlife. Instead I was consigning myself to a five-day-a-week prison which would only really give me weekends with large blocks of time to get things done.

Why couldn't this city have a small time gang like the Street Rats I could take over? Or at least divide like I had done before. It would have made all this so much easier.

Passing that off, I reentered the house, flushed from my exertions. I turned on the coffee pot before heading toward the shower, this time going over my inner list of things to do before I headed out. Today wasn't going to be too bad, and really the rest of the week wasn't either. The truth was this whole school thing wasn't going to really affect me for another few weeks. It was going to take at least half that for my test results to come in and for them to place me in actual classes. So, I still had some time to work on my foundation before time became an issue.

Besides, I silently mused, heading to my bedroom to get changed, I probably wouldn't even end up in mainstream classes this year anyway. More than likely I would end up in remedial classes for the rest of this year to catch up. At least, that was what Ms. Halleyway thought. That shouldn't be too bad, right? Kind of like self study, just not on my own. I could work around that. It wasn't likely that I'd get any big jobs between now and then anyway.

Shaking those thoughts loose, I checked my phone and saw that I had a text from a strange number.

 _That wasn't what I meant and you know it. We need to talk._

Shaking my head at Assault's message, I sent a quick reply before tossing my phone on the bed.

 _No we don't, and you're welcome. PS: You can keep the phone. It's a clean burner._

Clothes changed, contacts in, and make up applied, I gave myself one last look through Annette's vanity mirror, liking the end results of my efforts.

Even if I didn't know anyone there, didn't really want to do this in the first place, and going as Renée Hebert, I was still Gambit. And Gambit had standards when she went out in public. Okay, those standards usually involved my armor, but it was custom made _stylish_ armor.

I really needed to get Penny something for all the help she'd been giving me with this kind of thing. Even if she wasn't here to physically help, she knew this stuff, and more importantly, my wardrobe. Satisfied, I grabbed my bag heading downstairs where Danny was no doubt waiting for me.

Finding him exactly where I expected -sitting at the kitchen table- I set my bag by it, taking up the tea he'd made for me.

"You're really going to wear the coat?"

"It's still cold out there," I answered immediately. "I know, I went running this morning."

"Sooner or later, you are going to have to just get used to it. That's Brockton Bay this time of year."

"Not till next winter I won't," I argued smugly. "Lucky for me, this winter is on its last legs. Until then, yes, I'm wearing my coat. It's warm."

"And the boots?" he asked fondly. "They are the same ones you normally wear for your... hobby."

"They're comfortable and they go with everything else. Penny said so."

Giving up on holding in his laughter, Danny shook his head. After a moment to compose himself, his expression turned more serious.

"You ready for this?"

"Sure," I answered easily, in complete contrast to my earlier thoughts. "Just tests. I'll be fine."

"I'm sure it will be. Lillian did mention she wouldn't mind tutoring you, but if that's too uncomfortable, we could always hire someone to help you get started. I have no doubts once you're caught up you'll be okay, kiddo."

"We'll see," I said, checking the time on my pocket watch. "I should go. If I miss the bus I'll have to steal a car to get there on time."

Sighing and probably unsure whether I was joking or not, he shook his head. "It's way too early in the morning for thinking about phone calls from the police that my daughter was picked up for grand theft auto."

"Please, Gambit doesn't get caught," I smirked, knowing well that wasn't his point.

Deciding to let it go, Danny stood up giving me a hug. "Remember, we still need to talk tonight."

"I know."

"Alright. Have a good day at school, Renée."

"Thanks. You too with work."

Exiting the house, I headed down the street to the bus stop. I'd have to change over twice to get to Arcadia, but that was fine. I would only have to deal with this setup for a few months before I could legally get a car. Fairly sure Danny would be upset if I found an alternative that wasn't legal and really, it was only for a few months. Not that big a deal.

The ride and change-overs passed quickly enough, though I thought next time I'd bring a book to read to keep myself occupied.

Walking up to the front gate, I could see why Calle had recommended the place. High brick walls surrounded the entire campus, giving it a more stately feel than I would have expected. Even as I turned in, other students were arriving. They looked friendly enough, though no one talked to me; that matched up with what Calle had told me about the place.

Following the directions I had memorized, I made my way through the high arched halls for the main office. Once there, I was pleased to see they had expected me and had the paperwork Calle had mentioned I would need to fill out all ready and waiting. Once done, it was a round of introductions, Vice Principal Mathers, Councilor Roth, and my exam teacher for the day, Ms. Beckett.

Following Ms. Beckett, we once again ventured through the labyrinth of halls, lockers, and doors. It continued like that for a while, her pointing out various things, me nodding along as we moved through the press of adolescent humanity that was everywhere. People greeting friends, good natured grumblings, expectations and such. It was all very chaotic, but I'd seen worse. Maybe not with so many well-dressed teens, but yeah.

After about ten minutes we arrived at the empty classroom where we each took seats and got started. Ms. Beckett took her time explaining the rules of the testing procedure, what was expected of me, and most importantly, what I could expect from her. All of it seemed rather simple and it wasn't long before I was into the first test.

From there, I fell into a pattern. Reading, thinking, and checking answers. Rinse and repeat. Hours passed with the only real sounds being my pencil on paper or the turning of pages from Ms. Beckett's book. One subject bled into another as I ground my way through all of it.

Closing the last booklet, I sighed, exhausted. I had pulled all nighters watching marks with less fatigue than I was feeling at the moment. Hell, fighting capes took less effort. After _both_ my fights with Two Mauls I had walked away feeling better than I did right now. And that last time he had broken my ribs.

"All done, dear?" Ms. Beckett asked politely.

"Yes, ma'am," I groaned. Whether due to the difficulty or my own fatigue, I couldn't tell.

"I'm sure you did fine," she assured me, obviously picking up the gist of my thoughts.

Nodding tiredly, I smiled thankfully at her concern. "We'll see in a week."

"Either way," she informed me as I handed her the packet. "Your spot here at Arcadia is assured, Miss Hebert. I guarantee, if you put it as much effort within the next few months as I just witnessed, by the start of the term come August, you will be just as prepared as every other junior here."

"That is kind of you to say."

"You must be hungry," Ms. Beckett observed before looking at the big clock above her. "It's close to lunchtime. If you wanted to get something before you headed home they should be serving about now."

"I might do that," I conceded, looking at the time myself. "My bus won't be here for another forty minutes."

"Do you need directions?"

"No, thank you. I remember Mr. Mather's directions on where find it."

"Very well. Have a good day, Miss Hebert."

"You too, Ms. Beckett."

Leaving the room and Ms. Beckett, I headed to where I was pretty sure the cafeteria was. Halfway there, the bell rang, and the once empty halls were once again awash with teens. This time, most of them were heading to the same place I was.

While no stranger to moving in a crowd, I wasn't trying to pick a rich mark's pocket, though it would have be ridiculously easy if I wanted to. Even as I moved out of the main traffic I spotted no less than a dozen wallets that were just begging for a new owner. The laughing, exuberant -and best of all, oblivious- crush was a perfect pilfering ground had I needed someone else to pay for lunch.

Maybe this school thing wouldn't be so bad after all. I bet the take would be decent until most became too paranoid to make the work worth it. Not great, but most of the people around me were nicely dressed, which signified money types and none of them looked like they couldn't afford to miss a meal or two. Just the opposite in a few cases and wait, was that a rolex?

Yes, yes it was. And those were some damn nice earrings on that blonde. No way the stones were real, but that was real gold, or I wasn't the thief I thought I was. Must be nice to have so much money to flaunt it like that.

Which reminded me, I really needed a fence. That, or maybe Sam wouldn't mind making a trip up north for a long run. He could bring Penny and we could hit Palanquin before they headed back. It'd be fun. I guess I could use Jess's fence, but that meant getting into their current employer's pocket, which I was still leery about, despite them saying he wasn't that bad.

Jess had strange ideas on what constituted 'not bad' when it came to people. It was definitely different than mine.

Which reminded me, Jess and I never did get around to that night on the town like we talked about. Ah-well. I was free this weekend and if nothing else…

Shamefully, I didn't see the guy goofing off until his body slammed into mine sending us both to the ground. My bag -of course- opened, spilling its unused contents. My blank notebooks, binder, and various pens, pencils, and a few erasers all made their bid for freedom as I watched and half listened to the apologies of the guy who had knocked me down.

Ignoring the laughter of students around us as people turned to the commotion, I sighed. I deserved this. So stupid letting myself get that lost in thought. I knew better than that, no matter how much I missed Sam and Penny or wanted to check out Paliquien.

"I'm so sorry," the embarrassed teen said. "Hey, let me help."

"It's fine."

"Hey, I'll catch up!" he said, ignoring me. I didn't pay attention to his friends reply as I started putting stuff back in the pack Danny had gotten for me.

"This is totally my fault. I was messing around and not looking where I was going."

"It's okay," I said, scooping up a small cluster of erasers and dumping them back into the bag. Why had Danny gotten me all this stuff anyways? Seriously, who needed this many pencils and erasers? And if I needed that many, why did he get me pens? This seemed like an awful lot of stuff now that I was going through it.

"Here."

Looking up I saw he was holding out the last two missing notebooks. Smiling warmly to let him know I wasn't upset I thanked him as I added my wayward article to the other stuff in the pack.

The crowd around us had moved on, looking for food or just to get away from the embarrassing scene I'd accidentally caused. The guy who had knocked me over was still kneeling quietly. After I was satisfied my pack wasn't going to rebel again, I looked up to thank him again for helping when I noticed how he was looking at me.

Looking right into my eyes. Searchingly.

And that wasn't weird at _all_.

Before the moment reached levels I would do something to dissuade his attention, he whispered in a voice so low, I could barely hear it. " _Gambit?"_

A fast look around showed that what attention was on us, was on the fact we were both kneeling on the ground looking at each other and not on what we were saying.

I didn't exactly know a lot of people in Brockton Bay, and very few of them in his age range. That was, until my gaze fell on his hair. I knew one guy in this city with red hair like that. But it couldn't be...

 _Clockblocker?_

This time, it was my eyes that widened, though thankfully I didn't name him out loud. Still, it had to be. Same hair and build. His armor hid quite a bit, but I'd seen enough when he was dressed up in that cosplay outfit to know now that I was looking for it.

Giving those around us one more quick glance, I extended my hand saying clearly, "Bonjour. I'm _Renée._ "

Catching on, he gave his own look around before chuckling -at himself or the situation I couldn't tell- and taking my hand.

"Um...Dennis."

"Thanks for knocking me down, Dennis," I said unable to help the smirk on my face. "Are you this aggressive with every girl you meet?"

"Only the pretty ones," he immediately replied, still looking a bit punch drunk.

"So you knock down every pretty girl you see?"

"I… uhh… I…"

"There's the suave guy I met a couple of weeks ago," I said with a wink.

He laughed before his face sobered into a guilty frown.

"I was going to call…"

The crowd around us had mostly moved on but the fact we were still kneeling was attracting too much attention for me. Getting up, Dennis quickly followed suit.

"It's fine, _mon'ami_ ," I interrupted him. "I asked you to think about it, and you did. We're good."

"Hey," he said, this time interrupting me. After a moment of silence between us, he calmly continued, "It's not like that."

Looking around himself and seeing the last of the gawkers snickering at us, Dennis turned back to me.

"Want to have lunch? With me? Most people hang out in the quad so we can get a table inside. Maybe talk?"

It wasn't the best place for the kind of 'talk' I was thinking he wanted to have. But, it wouldn't be that bad as long as we kept an eye out for eavesdroppers. Wouldn't be the first time I had a sensitive conversation in a crowd.

Also, it wasn't cold inside the cafeteria and reading the cues I normally couldn't on a masked face, I could tell he genuinely wanted to talk.

"Alright."

Smiling, Dennis picked up his own backpack, leading the way.

"You realize you outed yourself?"

"Not the dumbest thing I've done."

"That can be argued."

"Yeah, probably, but I don't regret it. I didn't know you went to school here."

"First day," I answered the unasked question, smiling warmly when he held the door open for me. "I actually won't be back for a few weeks."

"Huh?"

"I don't officially start till then," I clarified. "I was taking assessment tests today for my transfer in."

"Oh."

Conversation stalled as we entered the line, got plates and served. After we paid, Dennis took us over to one of the far tables in the corner, which was considerate of him. Cut down on the likelihood of eavesdroppers.

Once seated and satisfied no one normal could hear us, I asked, "Anyone here with enhanced hearing?"

"Just one who might but they're in the quad."

Trusting his knowledge on the topic, I asked, "So, how are your 'bosses' going to feel about this? You outing yourself to a villain."

"Suspected villain, right?" Dennis asked, smirking himself.

"Let us not banter with words, _mon cher_ ," I returned evenly, tearing my roll in half. "You read my file. _I_ have read my file. We both know what it says and no amount of quibbling over details is going to change the fact the Protectorate has me listed as such. How much of an issue is this going to be? Should I expect agents with foam sprayers to kick in my door later? I just got it fixed and repainted the interior."

Snickering at my concern, Dennis shook his head. "I'm not telling anyone about this if you won't."

"Bold of you," I noted, sampling the salad I had gotten. It was surprisingly decent.

"This really isn't what I was hoping we'd talk about."

"It is a rather eye catching fly in the ointment, _chérie,_ " I mumbled, letting a teen wandering by to dump his tray time to move away before continuing. "More so for you than me. I've never made it a big deal to conceal my identity. Never seemed important until recently."

"Yeah, I was wondering about the contacts. They're really good. Not as nice as the real thing, but, well, you know what I mean," he finished lamely.

"They should be, for how much they cost," I noted, not commenting on the other part. "But thank you. You still ID'ed me, so they're not _that_ good."

"There really isn't much getting around your accent."

"Yes, but one does not trade in a Porsche for a Pinto just because both start with the letter 'P'."

"Besides," I continued, ignoring his indignant squawk, "it does not change the fact that me knowing your civilian ID could be just the tipping point the PRT needs to pull something. Which, I'll have you know, is something I've put a great deal of effort in preventing over the years."

"Can we, just, not talk about work stuff?" Dennis asked, sighing. "It won't be an issue from me. I promise."

Seeing his frustration, I had to remind myself I wasn't dealing with a New Orleans Ward and he _was_ good people. Sighing myself, I nodded. "Alright, but if I end up in jail over this, I will be very upset."

He smirked. "Come on. Who could catch you? Certainly not me."

"Flatterer," I mumbled, not completely hiding a blush. For all his faults, Dennis certainly knew what to say where it counted.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"Just a bit."

"Nice. I was pretty sure that one was going to be too much."

Giving in to my chuckle at his antics, I asked, "So, what _did_ you want to talk about?"

"Us," Dennis started saying, looking more serious than playful now. "I was going to call. It was just, Gallant, you know? And then Renick read me the riot act later. I was worried about stuff."

"This isn't doing much to alleviate my concern about the PRT, Dennis."

"Right. Well. Crap. Dammit, how is Rory's so good at saying what he means? Look, I… didn't want to put pressure on you."

"Shouldn't that be my choice to make, _mon'ami?_ Pretty sure I made it clear where I stood that night."

The boy gave a weird smile. "I really like being called that. What's it mean?"

"Not what you think it does, and don't change the subject."

The boy grimaced, but soldiered on. I didn't think he really expected that sort of diversion to work.

"It… I guess I was just worried. About how the other Wards would react to you. They'd go out of their way to make sure you weren't working some angle on me."

"They could do that, and they would find nothing," I replied casually. "Even if I had an angle, I don't gamble with people. Especially this way. I told you that. I expect certain things from people I'm close to, and in return, meet those same expectations."

"Yeah, but they don't know that and they _have_ read your file, too."

"I figured they would have. Standard procedure, isn't it?"

"How do you know that?"

"Stole a rule book from the PRT in New Orleans last year," I answered honestly not seeing a reason to hide it. "Pretty sure it hasn't changed that much since then. I was curious about your protocol."

"And how to get around them?"

I smirked but didn't reply. Didn't really need to.

Dennis chuckled weakly, but nodded to the silent point he made. "Also, don't think the thefts around town lately haven't been noticed. They have, and sooner or later, someone's going to connect the dots."

I frowned. "I thought you didn't want to talk about work?"

"Just saying. 'People' are talking."

"They usually do. That doesn't mean I was involved. I'm not a magpie, Dennis. I don't take everything not nailed down just because I can."

Which was true, despite my earlier thoughts of fleecing this place. I was always thinking of doing stuff like that, doesn't mean I actually would. Just a fun mental exercise.

"I wasn't saying that…"

"And if your 'people' want to bring me up on charges as if I am, they are going to get laughed out of court, if it even goes that far..."

"I'm not accusing you of anything, okay?"

"Good," I replied firmly.

"Even if you're innocent of _stuff_ , you're still in danger just because other people think you _might_ be responsible."

"And why would _those_ kinds of people suspect _me_ of anything?" I asked very quietly. I hadn't been very active lately and there was no way I left behind anything to ID me at the Merchant meth lab. That only left...

"Well, last night Assault mentioned…"

"Assault talks too much," I hissed quietly, taking a quick look around and not seeing anyone near enough to hear us. I had known that that was going to bite me in the ass. I was never doing another Protectorate hero a favor again. _Bastard has gotten me in trouble twice now without even_ being _there…_

Leaning over the table I whispered, "If any... _rumors_ , about my supposed involvement last night hits the street, any danger I'm going to be in is going to be from _your_ end. _I_ didn't leave anything behind that could be linked back to me."

"Hey…"

Leaning back I shook my head. Dennis nodded, poking at his lunch with a plastic fork while I took a moment to to calm down. It wasn't _his_ fault Assault talked too much.

Worst case, the Empire was wise to me hitting their pit fight. That doesn't mean that they knew I robbed the safe. Of course, that was assuming that the two capes I'd noticed didn't fight Armsmaster and Miss Militia off long enough for someone to get away with it.

If they knew I had been there, it still wouldn't mean they wouldn't blame me either way it went. Rightly so or not.

Great. Now I was back to square one with only half of my needed funds. No way I could hit the Empire again anytime soon. While hitting the ABB didn't carry the same risks, if even a rumor about a 'mystery' hit the street now it was going to ratchet up attention. I had hoped to be more established before it got to this point.

Well, no use crying over burnt rice. I wasn't going to get away with much more from the heavies anyway. Besides, this was what I got for working with heroes.

"This kind of thing is why _this,_ " I muttered, motioning between us, "was a bad idea."

Before I could elaborate, or Dennis could refute my comment the doors of the cafeteria opened loudly, admitting a pissed off blonde.

Heading right toward our table.

"Jesus Christ," Dennis groaned, slamming his head down, barely missing his plate.

Confused, and not a bit concerned at Dennis's reaction, I watched her storm up to our table. What people were still in the cafeteria all leaned back, eyes locked on the blonde, looking as if the reaper herself had just walked in.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" she hissed, putting her hands on the table, staring at me venomously.

"I _was_ eating," I replied calmly, curious and worried about the excess attention on us. "Before that, standardized testing. Why is that your business?"

"You _know_ what I meant," she bit back, though thankfully low enough that the scared people around us didn't hear it.

Then it clicked. Everyone's -but especially Dennis's- reaction, as well a few other things coupled with research I'd done weeks ago. It all came together in an instant.

I had a pissed off Victoria Dallon, the heroine cape also known as Glory Girl of New Wave, leaning over my table, drilling holes into my head with her -thankfully _not_ laser beam but no less concerning- eyes.

 _Fantastic._

"Vicky, what the fuck are you doing?" Dennis shouted loud enough for those closest to hear, sounding as annoyed as I felt. A mix of anger and embarrassment written on his face. "Dammit, I knew this was going to happen."

Which was the last piece of the puzzle I needed to know what was going on.

"Get out of my face, Dennis. This doesn't concern you."

"Oh you _must_ be the girlfriend."

"What?"

I should have expected this whole encounter the second I recognized Dennis. If Dennis was here, Gallant was, somewhere. Calle had mentioned that most, if not all, the Wards went here and it wasn't a leap to think they socialized out of costume. They were on the same team, after all. Gallant had to have seen Dennis and I sitting together. If my impression of how his power interacted with me from the Hard Luck was accurate, it wouldn't have taken Sherlock Holmes to figure out who I was, no matter what I did to change my appearance.

That New Wave sent their kids here, shouldn't have surprised me any more than the fact Gallant ran his mouth off about me to his girlfriend. _Especially_ after listening to Dennis complain about Gallant's harping.

Very well. I might not know how to deal with friendly heroes, but I was well versed in dealing with unfriendly ones.

Ignoring Dallon's confused expression at my earlier statement, I calmly dabbed my lips with my napkin before leaned back in my chair. "Gallant's girlfriend. You came up in a conversation I had with him a few weeks ago."

"And what is that suppose to mean?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Just that you are exactly as advertised. Unfortunately."

"Listen you…"

"Is there a reason you're bothering me?"

"Excuse me?" Dallon asked, looking even more confused and more than a bit offended.

Which, I understood. I kinda was the villain in the conversation.

"You know exactly why I'm here," she finally managed to say. "You don't belong here and stay away from Dennis."

"Hey," Dennis shouted. "What the hell? You tell me this doesn't concern me and then say that?"

"First off, this shiny little badge here doesn't say _visitor."_ I said, fingering the name tag they had given me today until I got my laminated ID. "Second, don't you already have a boyfriend? I didn't know you were collecting a harem. Does Gallant know you're shopping around?"

"Fucking right? I don't care if you're a hero, Glory Girl. Stay the fuck out of my business." Dennis hissed, in a way that sounded utterly unnatural for the normally easy-going Ward.

"I… but Dennis I'm just…" she started, put on the back foot by the venom in his voice, before he cut her off.

"You just thought butting into my business was smart!? This is _exactly_ what I was trying to avoid so of _course,_ it's what happens!" Dennis growled.

Before she could do more than breathe deeply, presumably to start shouting -Dennis had shouted enough, thank you very much- I interrupted calmly, and most importantly, quietly. "Just for a moment, let's assume I am who you _think_ , I am. Why would you pick a fight with someone like that?"

"I'm not picking a fight. I'm avoiding one before it starts. Besides, I'm invincible. You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

"No one is invincible. Not even Alexandria, and she's about as brute as it gets." I chuckled still keeping my voice low enough that our audience shouldn't hear me while lazily waving my hand. "Look around you hero. It's not you I'm worried about."

It was only then, I think, that Dallon realized what I was talking about.

"Now, assuming you are correct, you just confronted someone who could hurt a lot of civilians, in a place with a lot of civilians to hurt. Funny enough though, it's not _me_ they have to worry about. It's _your_ power that's terrifying these people."

I could practically see her pulling herself together through the wave of relief as people were no longer gripped by the fear her power was evoking.

On the positive side, she couldn't affect me. That was good news, for what little that was worth. Embarrassed, but still full of ire, she opened her mouth but I didn't give her the chance to build up another head of steam.

Getting up myself, I leaned toward the heroine making sure this part was just between us.

"I don't care what Gallant told you," I whispered. "I don't care what you think of me or what you think you _know_ about me because whatever that is, is definitely wrong. You came in here and confronted _me_. I was minding my own business until you came in here acting like an indigent street bully. You used powers, I haven't. Think about that."

"I'm a fucking hero. No one needs to worry about what _I'll_ do," she insisted.

"Tell that to the skinny freshman by the soda machine who looks like he pissed himself."

"I'm not the bad guy here," she sneered, still completely oblivious to the terror she was inspiring.

"Bullshit," Dennis snapped under his breath.

"And you have no proof except the stick up your boyfriend's ass that I am either," I continued sternly, but couldn't help a small grin toward the redhead for his quip. "And _chérie_ , that doesn't give you the _right_ to do a damn thing. Look around. It's not the supposed villain these people are scared of. It's the _hero_."

My last comment seemed to finally break through her hot headed temper, and look around. Not just look but _really_ look.

People were whispering, not even bothering to hide the fact they were whispering about us. Or, more accurately, that they were talking about Glory Girl confronting the unknown new girl about something that was obviously a big thing between us.

But more, and even worse, was the fear in their eyes. Even though they had no idea what we were arguing about, it was as if they expected blows to start being swung between us, and Glory Girls reputation was well known for being someone who could hit _hard_.

I was a lot tougher than I looked, but they didn't know that. All they saw was a thin teenage girl about to get her head knocked half way to California.

"None of you know who you are talking too," I quietly said, feeling things had stewed long enough. "You don't know anything about me. Dislike me all you want, but I wasn't hurting anyone eating with Dennis. Now, I'm leaving before this becomes something that requires foam sprayers to stop. If that is something you want to happen, do what you have to do."

"You…! But…!" came Glory Girl's glorious response.

"Wait, Renée. Please, you don't have to…" Dennis trailed off reaching out to me as I stepped toward the exit.

Moving quickly enough to not let him grab my arm when he reached for it, but not so fast that it looked like that was what I was doing, I half turned to him, smiling wanly.

"It was nice to see you again Dennis. Maybe we'll run into each other, sometime," I said, just a little sadly.

I left the cafeteria, but I didn't have to look back to _feel_ the guilty wince from Victoria Dallon as Dennis glared bloody murder at her.

Part of me hated this whole thing, but really, what did I expect was going to happen when I accepted a date from a hero? In the end, it was better this way. No matter that small part of me wished it wasn't.


	27. Devil in the Church: Interlude 2

**Devil in the Church: Interlude 2**

The clicking of keys being pressed in rapid fashion was the only sound in the small office. A soft tune known to office employees and paper pushes the world over. Its unbroken cadence signifying a well written and detailed report was in the making. Without missing a stroke, the lean man looked at the clock precisely when the minute hand shifted, striking noon.

At the exact same moment, his cell phone beeped. Once.

Everything was now in place, just like he knew it would be. Once the operation was completed, years of effort and careful planning would pay off. Once his pet was secured, he would be able to seriously begin what he had started years ago. And a full year ahead of schedule.

Which reminded him. Mr. Jones deserved a bonus for bringing him this information two weeks ago.

Note taken, his fingers stilled on the keyboard. Ignoring the cell -and the blank text waiting for him- taking the handset from its cradle, dialing. Only one word was spoken when the recipient picked up after the first ring.

"Begin."

 _XxX Gambit XxX_

 _Where did she go?_

Looking around, Dennis cursed to himself at the distinct lack of Renée anywhere in sight.

Seriously, how did she do that? There were like, maybe, fifteen people in the hall and he doubted very seriously she'd run through here. Aside from the fact no one was looking like they noticed something like that, it wasn't her style.

Renée had said she'd just finished assessment tests before he'd bumped into her. So, the parking lot was likely to be his best bet to catch her before she really vanished. He didn't want to go to math anyway and if it meant he could catch up to her and hopefully explain things, that was worth a possible detention for skipping class.

"Dennis!"

Ignoring the shout from the last person he wanted to talk to, Dennis caught a glimpse of a head of long brown hair that might have been her turning the far corner. However, before he could start after her -not caring about the looks _he_ would have gotten for running in the halls- someone grabbed his shoulder.

Turning away from Dean he looked back seeing the girl was gone.

"Damn it," Dennis cursed, heading for the parking lot, which oddly enough, wasn't the same direction the girl he'd glimpsed had gone.

"Hey…"

"Haven't you done enough?"

"Dennis," Dean said, trying to step in front of his friend. "Let me explain."

"What's to explain?" he asked, trying to move around Dean unsuccessfully. "I think the two week build up to this pretty much explains itself."

"Listen, man," Dean whispered, pulling Dennis's arm.

"To what? Vicky pretty much said it all."

Looking around, Dean started pulling him out of the way. Sighing, Dennis gave up. He wouldn't catch Renée now anyways. Even if he did, having Dean with him when he did was about the worst idea, ever.

"I didn't mean for that to happen," Dean apologized once he dragged Dennis into an empty classroom and away from the few people in the hall.

"Yeah? And that fixes everything, how?"

"Dennis…"

"No man, I'm tired of this. You don't see me giving you crap for who you like."

"What's wrong with Vicky?"

"Depends," Dennis snorted. "You guys on or off again?"

"It's not that bad…"

"You guys have broken up and gotten back together six times this year!"

"Okay, yeah, but Vicky isn't a villain!"

"And neither is Gambit," Dennis returned, folding his arms.

"Yes she _is_ , Dennis," Dean exasperatingly stated.

"Say's who? Because she doesn't act like a villain."

" _The PRT_."

"Yeah, because they're _never_ wrong about something," he huffed. "Look at Shadow Stalker. She's just like a Disney Princess. Who dresses in all black and wears a hockey mask. And uses crossbows. Who likes to pin muggers to walls with sharpened bolts when she's not kicking them in the balls. Best hiring decision, ever."

"You know that was from before she became a Ward. She's gotten better…"

"Bullshit. Even Vista thinks she's a psycho, and Vista likes _everybody_."

"...and besides, she follows the rules now whether you believe it or not. But this isn't about Shadow Stalker's issues. This is about a villain knowing your civilian ID!"

"Which was my fuck up, just so you know."

"What?"

"I was messing around," Dennis explained tiredly. "Goofing off when I knocked a girl down. As I was helping her pick up her stuff, I recognized her and called her by her cape name. She didn't even recognize me until I did."

"That's what she wants you to think," Dean doggedly said.

"Well that would explain why she was so concerned about me knowing _her_ civilian ID."

"Man, Renick is going to flip when we tell him about this," Dean sighed, completely ignoring his friends sarcasm.

"No he's not, because we're not going to tell him."

"A villain knows who you are out of costume, Dennis. We have to tell them."

"Fine. Then I'm telling Renick you're sharing Protectorate stuff with Glory Girl. Including outting Gambit to her."

"Dennis, it's not the same thing. Vicky's a hero."

"But she's not a Ward," the normally laid back teen stated.

"Vicky isn't going to spread it around."

"She picked a fight in the middle of the cafeteria!"

"I really didn't mean for that to happen," Dean explained. "I just saw you two sitting there and it was bugging me that she came here and was talking to you out of costume. Vicky kept pestering me about why I was so quiet, and it slipped out and before I could stop her she was already inside. You know how she is."

"Man, no shit, which is why you shouldn't have said anything at all. What the hell is your problem with Gambit, Dean? And don't say 'it's because she's a villain', because that's getting old."

"I don't trust her. She's up to something," Dean answered immediately.

"Say's you."

"Right, because Gambit's never lied about anything before."

"You're just saying that because of all the crap in her file."

"It wouldn't be in her file if there wasn't something to it."

"There's something there alright, it's called _speculation_ because even the heroes in New Orleans didn't know anything for sure."

"And that makes it better?" Dean asked. "How does that work?"

"That doesn't mean she's trying to use me like you think she is," Dennis said instead of answering.

"You're my best friend," Dean tried again, switching tracks. "I don't want you caught up in whatever scam she's trying to run."

"So it's not just Gambit you don't trust. You don't trust me."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. Seems pretty clear to me that's what's going on."

"Dennis, if you keep hanging around her, when she's caught doing whatever she's trying to do she'll bring you down with her. Even if you don't do anything. Just by association. You _know_ what that's going to screw up and it's only a matter of time before people figure this shit out."

"Oh, so it's _guilt_ now!?"

"Dammit man, I'm just trying to look out for you!"

"No because if you were trying to look out for me, you would have backed the fuck off. This isn't about looking out for me, you're looking out for our bosses."

Without another word, Dennis stormed out, leaving Dean alone in the classroom.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Dennis was pissed, and rightly so, a small part of Dean reluctantly acknowledged. But that didn't change the fact that nothing good was going to come of any of this. Right now, it was only a small thing, but the second Gambit pulled anything like she had in the past then all hell was going to break loose. Dean knew that when it did, Dennis was going to be the one left holding the bag and that was going to ruin everything for his friend. Especially considering how bad things were with his dad at the moment.

Sighing, he moved toward the door, mumbling to himself, "Man, this is so going to bite you in the ass. If you could see what I can't, you'd _know_ there was something sinister about this girl…"

His phone chiming brought Dean from his thoughts. Checking showed it wasn't his phone, but his work phone that had received the message. Cursing to himself, Dean headed back into the halls; quickly making his way to where he was needed.

Several minutes later, he walked into the secure room finding that Dennis had already changed into his costume and was staring out the tinted window. Carlos looked like he had just arrived, while Chris was halfway into his own power armor.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, heading to his locker.

"Details on route," the dusky Hispanic muttered through his costume top. "When I checked in, Console gave me a brief sitrep. Bay Central's being hit. Looks like the Undersiders are trying to rob it. This time of day, that means they have hostages for us worry about."

"Shit."

"Didn't Amy go to the bank earlier?" Chris asked worriedly as he strapped his pistol in place. "Is she still there?"

"Probably," Dean answered tiredly. "She has study hall after lunch, which is why she thought she had time. Has anyone told Vicky yet?"

"Pretty sure she's still being yelled at by Vice Principal Mathers for whatever that was in the cafeteria earlier. He looked pissed when he escorted her to the office," Carlos replied neutrally. "Just to be clear, whatever that was, it's done, right?"

"Talk to Sir Galahad the Pure over there," Dennis snarked. "I'm fine."

"Obviously," Carlos said, not looking the least bit convinced.

"It's fine, Carlos," Dean answered. Finished stripping down, he started pulling on his undersuit for the power armor. "We're good."

"I hope so, because there's a bunch of scared people in that bank depending on us," Carlos stated sternly. "I don't want to be the guy to let them down because two of my team were too busy being pissed at each other instead of having their heads in the game."

Staring at Dean, Carlos waited and received a nod of understanding. When he turned to Dennis, the costumed cape seemed to almost feel the stare at the back of his head and nodded as well.

"Is it just us going?" Chris asked, fully costumed except for his helmet.

"No," Carlos answered, also fully dressed. "Vista's going to meet us there. Or wait for us. Even considering how far Lord's Elementary is, her power will probably get her there quicker than our van."

"She doesn't have to deal with traffic," Dennis commented. In a more light hearted tone than his previous comments had held, thankfully for the others in the room.

"Shadow Stalker?" Dean asked, putting on his helmet.

"No, Winslow's too far. By the time she gets there, this should be over. The Undersiders are runners, not fighters. Browbeat is coming in from Jefferson though."

Nodding, Dean didn't reply. That still put them at a disadvantage. Hellhound usually had no less than three of her huge mutated dog things with her. That left their two Brutes, Aegis and Browbeat, to deal with possibly three dogs, while Vista, Kid Win, Clockblocker and himself dealt with Regent, Grue, Tattletale, and Hellhound themselves.

"What about Protectorate support?" he asked. "Armsmaster's been hunting these guys for months. He'll want to be there."

"Protectorate's busy," Aegis answered. Seeing everyone ready and masked, he started leading them to the transport that would take them to the bank. "Apparently there's a skirmish between E88 and the ABB in the docks and the Merchants and PD over in the Boat Graveyard. Uber and Leet are also running around Downtown on tinker motorcycles doing who knows what."

"Is it a full moon or something?" Kid Win joked when Clockblocker didn't.

"No idea," Aegis replied, offering a small smile.

"Glory Girl could help," Gallant said, trying to ignore Clockblocker's shoulder slumping at the suggestion.

"I'll suggest it to Console. If they agree, she can catch up," Aegis said. "However unless things change, our orders are to do our best to prevent them from running without harming the hostages. Keep things contained until Protectorate heroes arrive to support. The priority for us is the civilians. Everything else is secondary."

"What's the plan?" Gallant asked as the PRT trooper opened the side door for them to climb inside.

"We have until we get to the bank to figure that out," Aegis muttered; entering the van.

As Gallant moved to follow him, he heard noise coming from the parking lot. The sound of an engine accelerating fast, squealing tires momentarily capturing his attention.

"What was that?"

Standing at the back of the van, Clockblocker turned away from the quickly fading noise. "I didn't hear anything."


	28. Devil in the Church: Chapter 3

**Devil in the Church: Chapter 3**

Following the map I'd memorized, I made my way toward the parking lot until my phone rang. Not recognizing the number, I changed directions, moving into an empty hall away from the few students wandering around just in case.

"Bonjour…" I barely greeted when a high pitched panicked voice interrupted me.

"Gambit!OhmygodyouhavetohelpDinahbecausesheneedshelpbutIdon'tknowwhat'sgoingonandshe'sbeenwierdalldayandandthenleftanoteandIdon'tknowwhattodo!"

"Whoa, slow your roll, ma petite," I said recognizing Angela's voice, though not much of what she actually said. The young girl sounded like she was trying to talk through a panic attack, and that didn't spell anything good, as Angela didn't rattle easy. "Take a breath and tell me what's wrong."

"Dinah's in trouble!"

"Girl Scout Dinah?" I asked trying to place the half familiar name. "The shy girl that wouldn't practice tying up Triumph? That Dinah?"

"Yeah, she's been weird all day and now she's gone!"

"That doesn't necessarily mean she's in trouble, Angela. You told me she's been acting strangely for a while now."

"She is!" the still panicked girl shouted loud enough for me to pull the phone from my ear. "You have to help her!"

"Alright," I assured the younger girl. Angela wasn't the type to spin tales like this for no reason. I'd made it clear when I had given her this number that it was for emergencies only, like if the Empire moved into her neighborhood, which considering how close that line was, could have been an issue.

The Empire…

Oh _shit._

Leaving the empty hallway behind, I started heading to the parking lot again, faster than before, not bothering with trying to blend in. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"All day Dinah's been really quiet, like, way more quiet than she normally is," Angela explained, thankfully sounding less rushed than she had earlier. "And she was sitting next to me in Social Studies, which was really weird because she never sits next to me. She always sits with Kevin and Stacy…"

"Angela."

"Sorry!"

"It's fine, _ma chère_ , but I need to know what happened."

"Okay. So, she's sitting next to me, and then the teacher answers the phone and tells Dinah that she needs to get her stuff and go to the office. And Dinah's never in trouble, you know? But Dinah never says anything. Her eyes got big and she started shaking but she got her stuff and left."

"Alright, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's in trouble, Angela."

"No, you don't get it. She left a note on her desk, Gambit! I thought it was notes from class and was going to save it for her but when I looked all it said was 'Help Me'. Dinah's in trouble!"

Almost to the doors, I froze. Somehow, Dinah had known what was going to happen. Expected it enough to have written a note telling whoever found it that she as in trouble. But why wouldn't she tell someone before…

Obviously because no one would believe a little kid knowing about something like that. They would think it was attention seeking or something similar. But how did she know about it in the first place? Maybe someone's kid warned her or something? Maybe, but how had _they_ known something was going on?

Shaking my head, I cast aside those thoughts. How she'd figured it out wasn't as important as the fact that she had, and now needed help.

"Where are you, Angela?"

"Nurse's office," the pre-teen answered immediately. "I asked to go to the bathroom and tried looking for Dinah but she was gone. I was going to go to the office but there's two kinda scary guys there so I lied to the nurse about Rodney having an accident and when she left to check on him, I called you."

"Tell me about the scary men."

"They look important. Like the guys at the bank, but they don't smile. And they're big and I don't know why but they scare me."

"White guys?" I asked, really hoping I was wrong.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

 _Fuck!_

"Listen to me very carefully, Angela," I stressed, throwing my pack aside and exiting the doors. "If the scary guys are who I think they are, you stay away from them. Stay in the nurse's office, you hear? No matter what happens, you stay right there."

"Okay," she whispered quietly.

"Promise."

"...I promise."

"Okay," I nodded, looking around the parking lot while reviewing the mental map I had for the Bay, trying to plan the quickest route. "You're at Lord's Elementary, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Sit tight. I'll be there soon."

Lord's wasn't far if I was remembering it right. But time was a factor. Moving through the parking lot I gave each of the cars barely a glance before something at the far back caught my attention. A large van.

Decaled with a huge PRT symbol.

Turning slightly to minimize my profile, I put a pickup between us to block line of sight as I look a closer look. Where there was a van like that, there were PRT agents with foam sprayers, and I had a good idea why they were here and who they were after.

"Good response time," I groused to myself.

Of course they kept a van nearby to protect their Wards. I thought that thing with Glory Girl had mostly been between us, but I guessed either her or Gallant had decided that they really didn't want me here and called in the cavalry. I knew I should have picked Winslow. It wasn't as good as Arcadia, but I'd bet the Protectorate didn't have any of their people going there. Definitely wouldn't have had to deal with Little Miss Teen Titan.

I needed to be gone. Now more than ever.

Cursing internally, I looked at the cars around me until my gaze settled on a steel blue Camaro that was absolutely screaming 'rich boy's toy'.

Fine. If they wanted Gambit to be the villain, then Gambit would be the villain.

Keeping one eye on the van, I pulled the slim jim from where I'd sewn it into my coat. Seconds later I opened the door reaching under the dash. A quick pull brought down a mess of wires. Picking the ones I needed, I applied a touch of my power, cutting them. A few twists of my fingers connected broken lines and I smirked, hearing the engine roar to life. Twenty seconds. Not too bad if I say so myself. Not a new record, but respectable. Even Car Jack would have nodded.

Taking out my useless contacts before they became a liability, I put in the ear bud, then reluctantly dialed Danny. This was not a conversation that was going to end well, but he needed to know before the Protectorate kicked in his door.

"Renée. How was…"

"There's a problem," I interrupted him, sharply backing up before shifting to first. Tires squealed as I accelerated, drowning out Danny's response, but I still heard his voice change from friendly to very worried.

"What kind of problem? What happened?" he repeated.

"What hasn't?" I asked bitterly, giving only enough attention to the street to avoid an accident before tearing into traffic. "Short story, I got into an argument with Glory Girl of New Wave and now there's a PRT van here looking for me."

"Excuse me?"

"You know who…"

"Yes, Renée, I know who she is but what I don't know is how you got into an argument with her that resulted in the PRT being involved."

"Apparently she's dating Gallant and Gallant outed me to her," I explained, turning the wheel enough to get around the car in front of me while shifting to third.

"I also ran into Clockblocker and we recognized each other. Which is probably what set off the whole damn thing since Gallant doesn't like me. I thought it was dealt with but there's a PRT van here."

"Listen, Renée. We'll figure this out…"

"There's nothing to figure out, Danny. I'm going to ground and you need to get ready for when they come to you, because they will. Soon, judging by how fast they got here."

"What the hell happened?" Danny didn't _quite_ shout, but his elevated voice definitely showed his surprise at what I was telling him. "Just how out of hand did this argument get?"

"I didn't do anything but that doesn't matter," I answered, slowing slightly as I cut the wheel. My heart started beating faster when I realized I was going a bit too fast for how sharp I was turning.

Ignoring the sound of car horns blaring and screeching tires from those around me as I half slid into the intersection, I concentrated on not wrecking this thing. Once safely through, I chanced a quick look through the rearview mirror, thankfully seeing that I hadn't caused an accident, but it had been a close thing.

Taking a steadying breath, I continued, "I told you before, heroes don't care about people like me. I don't know what they told the PRT, but I'm going to ground just as soon as I take care of something."

"Where? This isn't New Orleans, Renée. You don't have a place to go to ground here."

"I'll figure it out. I'll call Jess..."

"No you won't," Danny interrupted me this time. "Do you remember where that old factory I pointed out to you last week is?"

"The paper mill?"

"Estate Paper, yes."

"Yeah…"

"Good. Go there. You'll find a clean area to stay with bottled water and a small generator. No one should find you there unless you do something that brings attention. That area is almost completely abandoned."

" _You_ have a safe house?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Don't sound so surprised," Danny answered dryly. "I had it cleaned up and made ready only a few days after we got back from New Orleans."

"Definitely a minion," I muttered fondly, half to myself. "No mere henchmen would have had the foresight to have something like that in place. Why did you do it?"

"Just in case," Danny's voice answered seriously. "I wasn't sure just how much trouble was going to follow us back and this was before your lawyer managed everything he had. I have no intention of losing you again, Renée."

"Danny…"

"Besides," he continued. "At the 201st we learned long ago to take care of our own problems, and out here on the fringes of the city, we've had our share of problems. Sometimes, that meant a few guys needed a place out of sight until _misunderstandings_ could be dealt with. Estate Paper is one such place and one that's never been found. You'll be safe there until we can figure out what is going on and fix it."

"Danny, I don't think this is something that can be easily fixed." Sighing, I pushed down my emotions. "There's another issue, one I'm heading out to deal with right now. I don't have time to do this quietly."

"What _else_ happened?"

Recognizing the street name ahead as my last turn, I cut into the intersection again leaving behind a canopy of noise in my wake. Lords wasn't far now.

"You know those girl scouts I was hanging out with?" I asked. Without pausing for him to answer, I continued. "One of them is in trouble. I'm not sure how the Empire figured it out but before the thing with Glory Girl, I was talking to Clockblocker. He mentioned Assault was telling people I was responsible for narcing on that pit fight last night. All it would take is a sympathizer over hearing just enough to put the pieces together and Clock mentioned rumors fly fast in that building. All I do know is that someone's trying to kidnap one of the girls. I'm not going to let her take the fall for me working with heroes."

"What can I do to help?"

Seeing the school ahead, I licked my lips. "When the PRT comes to you, don't try and protect me. Just do what they want."

"That is _not_ going to happen."

"I'm not going to have you throw everything away for my problems, Danny! I know these people and how they operate. More than that, I know what kind of pressure they will put on you if they think you are harboring me. Tell them what they want to know and don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I've lived on the streets before."

"Renée…"

"No, Danny. These last two weeks, they've meant everything to me but that doesn't change how I've lived the last two years. I think we both knew it wasn't going to last and I'll not have you go down with me on this."

"I'm not abandoning you!"

"I'll find a way to contact you as soon as I safely can," I said. Seeing the school just ahead, I put an end to this conversation. Dinah couldn't afford me being distracted. "I have to go. Take care of yourself, Danny and...I'm sorry."

"Dammit, you're so much like your mother it scares m–!"

I didn't… couldn't, listen to more. Pulling the earbud out, I fried it and quickly did the same with my phone, before Danny could convince me to stop. That wasn't something I could allow. Not now.

I was probably already too late to do anything, but maybe someone inside would have seen the car they'd used. Angela said they were dressed like bankers, so that probably meant suits. That had to get someone's attention. It was such a thin lead but if Jess was right and their employer was as connected as they said they were, it just might be enough to work with. Even if that put me in his pocket so I had to trade favors for the intel, I couldn't let this kid take the rap for my mistakes.

With that plan in mind, I pulled into the parking lot. Everything looked fairly normal with nothing screaming 'bad guys kidnapping minors here'. Which confirmed I was too late.

Or not…

Ahead, parked in front of the office was a large black SUV. A guy in a suit standing at the side door. From where I was at on the far end of the lot, I could see the school doors open, showing two more suits. One of them holding onto Dinah's shoulder as they marched her toward the vehicle. They were half way between the doors and the car when the school doors opened again.

The familiar figure of Angela rushed out and even from here, I could hear her screaming something. The twelve year old ran full pelt for the duo with Dinah before launching herself at one of them. He stumbled but kept his feet even with Angela practically wrapping herself around his leg before sinking her teeth into it.

Even before he'd finished backhanding the little girl off him, I floored the accelerator, the Camaro's engine roaring in tandem with my own. Tacking well into the red, I shifted gears, causing the front end to lift slightly as it literally leaped forward.

Squealing tires and a roaring engine brought all attention right to the ton and a half of steel blue rocketing straight at them. I gleefully took in the surprised and panicked looks on their faces as I grabbed my seat belt, tightening it.

The one with Dinah picked her up and started running, while the one who had hit Angela spun around at the noise. The third standing outside made a break for it as well, following the one with Dinah. Doors opened and two more suits barely managed to jump out of the SUV before I slammed into it with everything my stolen car had, my feet nowhere near the breaks.

The world came to a sudden stop in an ear deafening clash of metal and plastic. The Camaro's airbag deployed, slamming into my face with enough force to dull just about everything into incandescent murmurs as my body was jolted from the dual impacts.

Sulfur infused my nose and even got into my mouth, tasting like bitter grit. Images spun with nothing making much sense for several long moments as I tried to get my bearings.

"What the fuck is this shit!?"

"Doesn't matter, just hurry up and deal with that! You alright, Adams?"

"Did you see that? That fucking little bitch bit me!"

"Stop being a pussy. Can you run or not?"

"I'm fine!"

"Good. I'm calling it in. Fish Squad isn't far for extraction. Let's go before something else tries to screw this up!"

Still reeling, I turned away from the airbag my face was resting against in time to see one of the suits step into my field of vision. The side of his head was slightly bloodied but that wasn't as important as the pistol he leveled at me.

Jerking back, his shot went through the airbag making my ears ring. Arm already on the drivers door, I cut my power loose, charging it.

A second bang -this one far louder than the first- broke, but not from the pistol aimed at me. The drivers door ripped itself free from the crumpled car, slamming into the suit with enough force to carry them both into the air and out of sight further into the parking lot. I couldn't see where he landed but a couple of thumps and breaking glass told me he probably wasn't going to come back and try to shoot me again.

With the airbag out of the way, I tried moving, but didn't get far when I felt the belt dig into me, reminding me I was wearing one. Too uncoordinated to unbuckle it, I used my power to snap it, finally getting free of the wreck.

More gunshots preceded impacts beside me. Starting to feel more present, I carefully looked over to the side trying, to see where they were coming from, only to note one of the suits running around the side of the building and vanishing from my line of sight.

"Angela?" I called out, hoping the kid was alright.

"Gambit…"

"Stay down," I instructed, taking another look to see if anyone else had stuck around to deal with me. "Are you hurt?"

"N-no. I-I think I'm o-okay."

Not seeing anyone pointing guns at me, I stood up making my way around the crumpled cars I was crouched behind. My impromptu charge managed to bury the nose of my car into their SUV far enough that a good two feet between them was indistinguishable from one another.

Coming around the back side, I spotted Angela curled up on the ground, staying very still.

"Hey," I called, waving the prone girl over to me when she looked. "Come here."

Quickly getting up, Angela scrambled over to me. Once she was close enough, I pulled her around behind me, where it was safer in case one the gunmen came back.

"I told you to stay in the nurse's office," I chided her as I looked her over for damage. Thankfully, I didn't see anything really bad except for the obvious, and that wasn't life threatening.

"I'm sorry but I saw those guys find Dinah and I wasn't going to just let them take her away!"

"You're too brave for your own good, Angela," I sighed. The bruise forming over her squinting eye seemed to be the only thing wrong with her. I knew how much that had to hurt, but the kid stared at me barely, noticing it, though she would once the adrenaline wore off. I'd had shiners like that before, and knew how much it stung.

"You're not going to let them take her, are you?" she asked shakingly. The shock was already wearing off.

"Of course not, but you have to say here, do you understand me?" I told the girl firmly. "Those are very bad men with _guns_ , Angela. You let Gambit handle this now. I didn't come here to help your friend only for you to get shot."

"Alright."

"I'm serious. You stay here and when the police show up, tell them what happened, but you _stay_ right here."

Seeing the girl nod rapidly, I turned my focus back to the corner the gunmen vanished behind. In the distance, I could hear the familiar sound of sirens steadily growing closer. If that was for my driving, earlier or my arrival here, I couldn't tell, but either way, it wasn't an entirely unwelcome sound.

Truth was, it was both good and bad. Good, because the more people that knew about this, the better. Bad, because they were just as likely to shoot at me as the guys I was trying to stop.

Then again, that wasn't exactly a new scenario for me to deal with either.

Leaving Angela behind the relative safety of the broken vehicles, I ran for the corner, giving the other side a quick look before ducking my head back as rapid gunfire started tearing up the brickwork.

Ignoring the frightened screams, I waited for the pause, charging a card. When it happened, I turned the corner, jumping into the air only to change direction by kicking off the wall and throwing the card.

Like I figured, he wasn't reloading and immediately opened up the second he saw me. My fast change in direction being the only thing that saved me from the hail of bullets directed my way. He wasn't so lucky, as my card hit the ground in front of him, sending him airborne in a spray of dirt and grass.

Hitting the ground before he did, I threw two more. The first hit him in the air, smashing him into the wall with bone-breaking force, with the second getting him on his way to the ground. His body bounced back with enough force to send his sunglasses and machine gun in two different directions.

Unfolding my staff about halfway, I raced past, striking the sprawled gunman in the temple. My strike sounded with a sharp crack that left no doubt in my mind he wasn't going to get up anytime soon. If nothing else, it should keep him down long enough for someone else to deal with him. I didn't have time.

Trusting to dwindling numbers and my speed to prevent another from getting a shot at me, I ran as fast as I could past the building, breaking into the open leading to the football field. There, I could see the last three far ahead, also running full tilt. One of them still had Dinah over his shoulder, but all three had their backs to me as they made for the far fenceline. I managed to close a good bit when one of them turned around and spotted me.

"Shit, she's almost on us!"

"Then fucking deal with her," the one holding Dinah shouted back.

Reaching into his jacket, the first one stopped, spinning to face me and raising the pistol he pulled, wide eyed as he noticed my charged cards already flying at him.

The first exploded on the gun, making him scream in pain. The second, third, and fourth hit him in the chest, arm, and leg, respectively sending his body flying at his comrades.

Before my fourth card had struck, another black SUV screeched to a halt on the other side of fence. The guy's body I lit up slammed into the the one not carrying Dinah, sending both to the ground in a tangle of limbs, groans, and curses.

The side door of the SUV opened, letting out another suit, this one with a rifle that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie. Pointing it at the fence, he fired, letting loose a purple laser that bisected the fence, leaving a clear three foot wide opening for the last one I was chasing.

I wasn't going to be fast enough to stop him before he got to his friends. I could feel my chances to save Dinah slipping away, even as I kept pushing myself forward, heedless of any consequences from those in front of me.

Proving my fears correct, the guy with Dinah leapt through the smoking and slagged remains of the fence, practically throwing the young girl into the vehicle with himself only a moment behind, screaming, "Go go go go go!" the whole way.

Extending my staff again, I charged it, adding a spin and putting everything I had into my swing, hitting the runner I'd knocked down a moment ago in the chest. Pain-wracked screams followed his body through the remaining distance between me and the black vehicle. He collided with the rifle wielder, and both bodies hit the back of the SUV hard enough to send it fishtailing half way across the street.

Even with the back end trying to outrace the front, the driver was able to keep enough control to keep it from stopping. Trying one last time to keep them from getting away, I threw another card, half fearing to put too much into it and hurt Dinah. It still shattered the rear and blew out the side windows when it exploded.

But even that wasn't enough to actually stop them. What it did do was give the guy I'd been chasing a clear shot at me through the broken remains of the rear window.

Seeing him point a large machine gun at me, I dove in the opposite direction the SUV was swerving, hoping that between the recoil and the motion of their getaway vehicle, it would be enough to throw off his aim.

The air erupted with the sound of automatic weapons fire, squealing tires, yelling people, far-off screams, and my own blood pounding in my ears as I rolled away, trying to not fall into the spray of death raining toward me. Somehow, something worked as he missed, tearing up the street instead of filling me with enough holes that I doubted my healing ability would save me this time.

All I could do was watch helplessly as the vehicle straightened out enough for them to race away, the eyes of the man I'd chased staring at me over the barrel of his weapon before they turned the next corner and were gone.

" _Pic kee toi,_ " I screamed uselessly after them.

' _This isn't over yet_ ,' I fumed silently, looking around for another car to steal and ignoring the broken men I had managed to stop. They weren't in any condition to tell me anything now. 'Feet pue tan _.'_

"You're welcome."

Spinning around, I found a young girl behind me who had most definitely not been there a moment ago. Seeing her dressed in armored panels and a skirt covered in wavy, swooping lines alternating between forest green and white with a helmet of the same color scheme, I amended that thought from girl to cape.

I recognized her instantly. After my date with Clockblocker on the boardwalk where he'd mentioned her and all the help she'd given him, I had extended my research on her, just in case I actually had a chance to meet her.

Though none of my thoughts on said meeting had gone like this. However, in retrospect, I probably should have figured that it would.

"Welcome?" I asked warily.

"For me redirecting those bullets into the street," she answered pointedly. "You have no idea how hard that is for me to do. Lucky for you, I realized what he was going to do and had just enough time to do it."

"Are you going to arrest me?"

"Thinking about it," Vista replied evenly. "You did just turn my school into a battlefield and I'm absolutely sure those cars wrecked out front aren't yours. But what I'm really interested in is why you were fighting those guys in the first place."

"They're kidnapping a friend of mine," I explained, looking away from the young cape and to where they had turned the corner. Thinking about arresting me wasn't the same as being willing to do it. There was also the fact Vista was alone, as far as I could tell, which meant she _shouldn't_ try.

Trusting in that, and already committed to open villainy anyway, I walked across the street tword an undamaged Accord. Not my first choice for a pursuit vehicle, but it was the closest thing to me that didn't look like a turtle could out race it. "I was trying to stop them. I didn't expect them to be this...professional or well equipped."

And that was just one of the things bothering me about all this. These were not amateurs playing around with guns acting like big men. They were professionals. I'd only ever crossed paths with people like this once before, but that one time was enough to know the difference between thugs acting like soldiers, and _soldiers._

Vista slowly turned to the unmoving men on the ground. Whether that was to purposely not watch me break in to the Accord right in front of her, or to visually check the would be kidnappers, I couldn't tell, nor care. "And what would you have done had you known?"

"Hit them harder," I half growled, opening the now unlocked door and ripping down the wiring. "Look, if you're not going to arrest me, I'm leaving. I need to catch up to them before they completely vanish."

 _If they hadn't already..._

"And what is your plan for us to do that without hurting other civilians?"

"Us?" I asked, slowly turning in my seat, bare wires in my hands.

"Yes, us," Vista replied, visor covered eyes looking right at me -mid carjack- and seemingly not bothered by it. "Kidnapped kid trumps money any day."

"There is no 'us'," I stated, not getting where money was any part of this equation and pushing that out of my mind. Making my point, wires sparked, before my second stolen vehicle of the day came to life.

Frowning slightly, Vista didn't budge. "I can help you catch up to them faster than you can on your own. Safer for everyone else too. Especially if that was your driving that caused all the alarms over the police net earlier."

"Why would you help me?" I couldn't help asking, but intrigued at her lack of hostility. Also, as much as I hated admitting it even to myself, it was entirely likely I couldn't do this alone, and if anyone could help me catch up to Dinah, it was the young hero in front of me. Besides, even if only half of her reputed ability online was true, we could catch up to the kidnappers way faster than I would in this car.

"Especially," I continued, "considering I'm fairly sure that if there isn't a warrant for my arrest before I showed up here, there's one being written up now, or will be soon."

"Clockblocker vouches for you," Vista answered. "Said you were good people despite what your files says. He jokes around a lot, but he wouldn't say something like that if he didn't believe it, and I trust him. If he says you're okay, that's good enough for me."

Every second that passed felt like glass being ground into an open wound. Dinah didn't have time for me to sit here arguing with a hero. And she had helped Clock meet with me. There was still the matter of the PRT van and Arcadia to deal with, but maybe she didn't know about that?

In the end it was the expression on her face that settled me. I didn't need to see her eyes to know the look in them. Her body posture and what I could see was recognizable enough. Recognizable, because I had seen that same expression on my own face a few years ago, every time I was about to do a job that needed doing, regardless of the consequences.

… It was still a bit strange to see that look coming from a girl in such a cute costume. Whoever did costume design at the Protectorate obviously had no idea who they were putting into it.

"You understand Truce Rules?" I asked cautiously as I got out of the still running car. "Pretty sure you guys call it the Lord's Understanding or something like that."

"Is that like Endbringer Truce Rules?"

"Similar," I answered. "But without the scary city killers. If you're coming with me, it's going to be under truce rules."

"What does that mean?"

"That means that no matter what happens, I have your back and you have mine. Our enemy is out there, not each other. At the end of this thing, no matter what either of us does, you go your way, and I go mine. We can settle any accounts between us another time. The priority is Dinah."

"That works."

"Just to be absolutely clear," I stressed, walking closer to the young hero. "I'm not looking for prisoners in this thing, Vista. These are not nice guys and I'm not a hero looking to make an arrest. I am going to get ma petite back, one way or another. I don't care who they work for, I don't care what they want, I'm getting my friend back and I don't plan to be gentle about it. If you have a problem with that or how I do it, then this is where you walk, and I drive away."

"I'm not seeing a problem."

Staring into her visor, I knew she was staring right back. For whatever reason, she was committing herself to this business and I had a feeling that she understood exactly what I meant when I said I wasn't going to be gentle.

If I thought Angela had spine, Vista looked like she had metal to spare.

What the hell did that say about this city?

Mentally pushing that aside, I nodded, hoping this wasn't going to bite me in the ass like working with Assault had. "Alright. Let's go get Dinah back."

Smirking, Vista turned away, looking upward. "Not afraid of heights, are you?"

Looking where she was, I allowed myself a small chuckle. "Please, Gambit is most at home jumping rooftops."

"Remember you said that later," Vista said, still smirking. "Rooftop jumping takes on a completely different meaning when you ride the Vista Express."


	29. Devil in the Church: Chapter 4

**Devil in the Church: Chapter 4**

At first, I was underwhelmed by the 'Vista Express'. Granted, she got us from the street to the rooftop as easily as stepping forward and that was no mean feat. The sensation of stepping through warped space had played havoc with my balance, but only for those moments when I was directly moving through areas controlled by her power.

We were still only moving just a bit faster than standard rooftop jumping, though admittedly, far easier and safer than had I been doing it on my own or would have trying to catch up in that Accord.

We spotted the damaged SUV easily enough once we had the high ground. Just like I would have done, they were keeping to side streets and moving steadily away from high traffic areas. While I couldn't stop them, I had caused enough damage to their vehicle that anyone looking remotely in their direction would take notice. Not ideal for the would-be kidnapper looking to get away by fading into the background

The problem for us was keeping line of sight. It just wasn't possible due to the buildings, narrow roads, alleys, and of course, their speed plus the lead they had on us. Slightly frustrated at our lack of closed distance, I asked the young heroine if that was the best she could do. At the rate we were going, we'd only ever just keep them in sight and the last thing I wanted was to let them get wherever they were going.

Then I found out why she called it the 'Express'. Our next jump covered half a city block, left me slightly disoriented, and made me stumbled after landing.

"How's that?" Vista giggled smugly.

"Much better, _ma chère_. Do it again."

Seemingly happy at how easily I had taken her little prank, or maybe satisfied I could handle it, Vista upped the ante and we really started moving.

There was something to be said for blitzing across rooftops at highway speeds. That didn't include the added dangers of the disorientation, shifting heights, and the fact I had to trust a hero to not drop me onto the street, or into a wall, for the funsies. Yet, Vista always put us right where we needed to be no matter the roof we landed on, and always with enough clearance from the edge that even if I had fully lost my balance, I would have been fine.

This allowed us to go from following the vehicle trying -and failing- to inconspicuously sneak away, to having to _wait for it._

But as much as I wanted to, we couldn't attack. Not yet, not with as many people around as there were. I didn't want to save Dinah, only to discover I'd killed ten people in accidental wrecks along the way. Or worse, cause them to open fire on me again. Even if I didn't get hit, bullets didn't stop until they hit something. Vista said I had gotten lucky, but I doubted Mr and Ms Normal on the street would be as fortunate.

I had risked too much in my run to Lords and was more fortunate than I had any right to be in that I hadn't hurt anyone in the doing. But, that was a problem that was quickly no longer becoming an issue. Not just because of Vista, but because if they kept going the way they had been, they were going to enter the Docks soon.

And _that_ would make them fair game. Especially considering how the area ahead looked.

Watching the SUV turn, I asked Vista, "Can you redirect them? Make them drive in circles or around the block?"

"They're going too fast," the young cape replied.

"I could slow them down."

"Wouldn't do any good," Vista said. "I need time to set up something complicated like corners, especially 90 degree corners."

"If they were on foot?"

"Even then, I don't think I could manage it like I think you're suggesting without several minutes to really grab the area. I could do other stuff, but they'd know I was doing it."

"Oh?" I asked looking away from the SUV to further down the street. "Like how I notice your power when I go through it?"

"Something like that. What I'm doing for us is small stuff. What you're suggesting is battlefield control, which I can't do easily for a large area. Not without some time to set up. Even if I could, they'd notice it right away. To warp enough area like you want will be a lot more visible than it is moving us. Kinda like being inside a funhouse, but without the fun."

"Depends on which side of the mirror you're on," I muttered, turning back to the SUV. It turned again, and I wasn't surprised to see where it was heading now. "But you can work a small area, no?"

"Yup. Do it all the time."

"Good to know."

"So," the young cape said. "What's the plan for stopping them from getting to their friends?"

"Noticed that, did you?" I asked, actually a bit impressed. _I_ had only just noticed them.

Vista's knowing smirk would have been completely unsettling on such a young face, if I hadn't already been expecting it. "Pretty sure before you did."

Allowing a small chuckle at her tone, I nodded, conceding the point. In truth, with her power, she'd probably noticed before I had.

"You know, if the whole hero thing doesn't work out, you would do well in the private sector."

"Are you really offering me a _job_?"

"I'm sure we could negotiate something to your liking," I answered easily. "Just letting you know, you have options."

"Options _are_ nice," Vista replied dryly. "But seriously. How are we going to get your friend away from those gunmen before they get to that warehouse? There's at least eight more over there and no telling how many more coming."

"Yes, they do seem to be very determined to keep Dinah," I noted flatly. The why was unimportant, though very much on my mind. Who went through this much trouble for payback over twenty large? None of this made any sense.

"If we moved over there," I said, pointing to rooftop ahead of the SUV, "could you put me right on top of them?"

"Do you mean in front of them? Sure, that's easy."

"No, _mon'amie_ , _on_ them."

"Like, on the roof? You want me to put you on the roof of a moving car?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of on the _hood_ , actually."

"You're nuts."

"It's been discussed," I smirked. "Can you do it?"

"I'm putting it in my report, that this was all _your_ idea."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Vista huffed, obviously not liking my plan at all. "Why? There's other ways we can disable them."

"It's not enough to just stop the car," I answered seriously. "I want to rattle their cages a bit, make them nervous. And nothing makes people nervous like suddenly appearing right on top of them when they think they are safest."

"You know, making gun wielding psychos nervous usually doesn't end well for most people."

"Those people aren't Gambit."

Shaking her head, Vista stilled for a moment before waving at the air in front of her. I knew from prior jumps she didn't need to use her hands to shape her power, she just did it so I would know it was safe to jump.

Another express leap brought us to the building I'd indicated. Together, we moved to the edge overlooking the empty street. To our right, the SUV approached at a steady pace for how much damage I had managed.

"Set up so that I land on them mid turn," I advised the younger girl. "If I disable the vehicle there, that should give you more time with clean line of sight to use your power."

"Yeah, because nothing can possibly go wrong with this plan," she snarked.

"Relax, _ma chère_ , Gambit was wrestling gators before she could write her own name. It'll be just like going home."

"I'll be sure to mention to Clockblocker that his _girlfriend_ likes to stand on the bridges she's burning. Just so everyone can see her level of commitment to crazy."

"You're not wrong," I said flatly. "I do tend to throw dice for absolutely no reason, but to be clear, Clock and I are not together."

"But I thought…"

Shaking my head I pointed to the SUV bringing her attention back to business. "I've lost enough playing nice with heroes. Only a fool allows herself to be burned twice the same way, and Gambit is nobody's fool. Now, they're almost here. Just a bit in front of the old mail box would be perfect. Do you have enough time to set that up?"

"Um, yeah? I mean, yeah. Yeah, I can do it."

"Good," I nodded, my tone letting her know the prior topic wasn't to be brought up again.

Looking around while Vista did her thing, I couldn't help but shake my head. This area had a few empty storefronts in it. When I had first started exploring Brockton Bay, I had noticed this trend here and there and had asked Danny about it. He'd mentioned that areas like this used to serve residential districts that dotted the docks back when the factories, warehouses, and other similar industries were all in operation.

Today, however, this area was mostly abandoned. Storefronts that once boasted large windows were now boarded up. There were no cars parked anywhere I could see. Not even a lonely newspaper fluttering abandoned in the wind, like a tumbleweed in those spaghetti westerns Penny loved. It was almost striking really, how crossing a certain street brought you from a normal looking city to...this.

All of that, depressing as it was, didn't change the fact that it also made this area a criminal's paradise. Case in point, three blocks down the road, where I was positive these guys were going, I could just see the shapes of a few people moving around, obviously forewarned of their companions' imminent arrival.

Seeing the our target slowing for the turn, I asked, "Ready?"

"If you time this wrong…"

"Then it this will become very exciting very quickly," I finished for the flustered cape. "We need to thin their numbers and to do that, they need someone to chase once I disable their car. Even together, we won't be able to deal with all of them at once and rescue Dinah."

"And what am I supposed to do while you're doing your bug on a windshield imitation, or getting run over? You don't just expect me to sit here and do nothing, do you?"

"Of course not," I replied sharply. "But, I have advantages in close quarters you don't. Only a idiot plays to their weaknesses instead of strengths."

"Sorry," Vista said, sounding contrite. "I just thought…"

"No matter, and just so you know, you have the harder job here. You have to make sure they don't go far."

"For how long?"

"Until I get back," I answered, eyes narrowed as I tensed for the jump.

Watching carefully and trying to not think about how if Vista was just a bit off, this was going to end badly, I leaped off the edge, instantly feeling the world distort around me. In a blink, I went from a second story rooftop, to just a few feet above the asphalt, and right over the hood of my target.

My boots hit slick metal even as my hands slammed into the windshield hard, but thankfully not hard enough to break it or cut my hands. Inside and in front sat two men in suits like those I had dealt with at Lord's. In the backseat, two more, plus the guy I hadn't managed to get. Between him and another suit, was Dinah.

Five pairs of eyes widened behind sunglasses as Dinah let loose an eardrum rattling scream that made me glad I was on this side of the glass.

"Bonjour," I shouted to the driver. "Did you know your tail lights are broken? You could get in trouble for that."

In plotting this particular idea, I had planned for Dinah screaming, furthering the bedlam my sudden appearance created. There really was nothing quite like a little girls scream to put people's nerves on edge quick fast and in a hurry.

Even grinning and staring directly at the driver, I could see two of the quicker-witted inside reach for weapons inside their coats. Legs tensed and ready, I was prepared to roll over the roof to avoid it. Making them shoot in close quarters like that would increase the chaos, especially when they blew out the windshield, partially blinding the driver. Even if it didn't do what I wanted, I was also putting in just enough of my power through my boots that in seconds this car's engine block was going to be nothing more than scrap.

What I didn't account for, but probably should have but it was kind of late now, was the driver spooking as quickly as he did, and hitting the gas jarring everyone inside at the sudden acceleration.

The SUV jerking forward threw me off balance enough that instead of rolling over the roof, I ended up with my knee on the hood and hands gripping into the slick glass. A quick look over my shoulder provided me with the sight of the light pole we were headed for, telling me that maybe Vista hadn't been too far off in her assessment of my plan.

The only good news about this sudden shift was that the surprise burst of speed had kept the gunmen from shooting me. They were too busy adjusting to the change. Shifting balance and altering my charges in the hood slightly, I braced myself for the impact, which wasn't long in coming.

My charges went off, causing the nose of the vehicle to dip downward sharply. Both front tires exploded, the bumper slamming into the asphalt just a split moment before we hit the pole in a thunderous crash.

Another aspect of my tactic was that my power diverted just enough of our momentum downward to allow me to slightly control my flight. Twisting my body, I flew past the pole with only my jacket grazing it. The boarded up window and empty shelves inside the old store front however, I couldn't do anything about.

I smashed through both in a shower of broken wood, glass fragments, and pain before a second set of shelves stopped me. Instead of breaking through that one, it fell over, bouncing me over a third set, allowing me to finally come to a stop on the ground behind it once I hit the fourth.

"Okay," I moaned, trying to figure out just how badly I had screwed up. "That could have gone better."

Everything hurt, but I didn't feel crippled. Somehow, I had managed to not break anything, but I was definitely going to feel this in the morning, and probably for the following week. Tears in my jeans and sweater showed that I was already bruising and bled from several cuts, but nothing that needed attention right this second. Worse than how my clothes looked, my jacket was ruined, showing similar tears and rips along my back and sleeves showing it's battle with shelves and window hadn't gone well.

This was exactly why I never bothered with a civilian ID and always wore my armor before coming to the Bay. _Never_ should have let Danny talk me into going to school like a normal person...

"Fucking _Christ_ ," someone shouted outside, bringing me back to the matter at hand.

"Goddamn it, John, what the fuck were you thinking!"

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Huh? What the fuck would you have done if a goddamn _devil_ looking girl jumped out of nothing at you?"

"So you decided to ram a light pole?" the prior voice asked disbelievingly. "You couldn't think of something that didn't fuck us too?"

"It got her off us, didn't it?" John shouted back. "If you think you could do better when motherfucking fire eye'd capes jump out of thin air, then you can fucking drive next time!"

Moving hurt, but not badly enough to keep me down. The area around me looked like this place might have once been a general store or something, though whatever it used to sell was long gone. Anything that hadn't been taken when it had closed would have been in the following years. Judging by the graffiti and other indications of prior trespassers, I was probably the first visitor in a while as everything was dusty and what tags I could see looked faded. The only light in here came from the hole my body had made, leaving most of the interior pitch black to eyes used to daylight.

Keeping low, I moved away from my landing spot, and around the shelf that blocked my view. Outside, I could just see the smashed front end of the SUV, white smoke boiling from the hood as green liquid spilled from somewhere inside it. Two holes in the hood where my feet had been issued more white smoke, like chimneys. I couldn't see Dinah, but all the doors of the broken vehicle were open with the suits standing around it as they argued.

"How the hell did she get ahead of us?" the one in back asked.

Shaking his head, a swarthy looking guy walking toward the front answered, "Capes. Does it even matter?"

"Shut the fuck up!" another shouted. This one I recognized. White guy, close-cropped blond hair. It was the guy who had gotten away from me at Lord's. Standing at the rear, he turned, facing the one walking to the front, looking at the damage. "Ben?"

"Car's wrecked, James," the new confirmed Ben answered. "We're on foot."

"How far are we from Echo Post?" asked who I thought was John. He was the one standing by the drivers door.

"Not far," growled James.

"The kid still alive?"

"She's fine, just shook up," James answered. "Ben, grab her. John, get the rifles, I'll call Echo in case they didn't hear this shit go down. Vance, Edward? Will one of you, _please,_ fucking kill this bitch for me!?"

"Shit, James. I doubt there's anything left to kill in there," said the smaller of the duo being addressed.

"True," the second of the pair nodded in agreement, tossing aside his broken sunglasses. "Even if she isn't, it'd be a shame to waste a pretty one like that."

"I don't care how good looking you think she is. The mission is for the kid, not the cape," James snarled. "You can find tail after the mission is done. I'm not taking any more chances with this one. Get in there and shoot her, and when you're done, shoot her again to make sure she stays down."

From where I was crouched, I watched John head to the back of the broken SUV, opening the back hatch. Ben, moved toward the back doors, leaning inside, probably to get Dinah, while James took out his phone.

The other two, who had to be Vance and Edward, disappeared around the back where John was. When they came back into sight, both carried rifles just like the guy who cut the fence at Lords. Both of them shouldered the weapons and approached the building in a manner that left little doubt to their competence, both with the weapons they carried, and how they approached.

While I might have been able to get most of them from here, I wasn't so sure I could do it without hurting Dinah. Especially considering that even in here, I could smell leaking gas from the SUV. Anything power related from me was likely to cause a very big boom.

No, I could work with this, as it was. Stepping backward, I slowly moved deeper into the darkness, letting them come to me. Hopefully Vista could keep them from going too far while I dealt with these guys. Three on two were better odds, and ones I'd bet on. Even if they had tinkertech rifles.

The bigger of the two stepped in first, aiming where he looked. After a few moments, he moved in deeper, letting in the second. Keeping their backs to the entrance, they moved in tandem to where I'd landed. When they noticed I wasn't in the rubble, they looked at each other. Hand signals I didn't understand preceded a pair of nods before the smaller one -relatively speaking as the guy was still pretty big- moved deeper, while the other headed my way.

Keeping tabs by the sounds of their boots steps, I shifted position, going in deeper, keeping several standing shelves between me and the big guy. My light steps were easily missed by the hunting duo until I was in position, right behind the second man. Once I was only feet behind him, I purposely stepped on piece of glass, breaking it.

Not letting him do more than spin around, I swung, punching him in the throat. My jab was quickly followed by me yanking the weapon out of his grip, then a sharp kick into his side. Before he could so much as choke from my jab, I was already sweeping his legs out from under him.

What little light there was here showed his face well enough for me to see his surprised, pain filled expression. It also allowed him to see mine. My wink was the last thing he saw before my fist connected with his face, sending him head first into the ground hard enough to make him bounce. I wasn't surprised when he didn't get back up.

No shouts and no calls preceded the rain of laserfire shot at me through the shelves. It was a quick burst, only a few shots, but I wasn't sticking round to gloat over an unconscious kidnapper. The second I was sure he was down, I went low, away from him and where I thought the other one was. The burst of purple death only just missed me as I moved. That was the only thing that kept me from ending up like the fence at Lord's, or the swiss cheesed shelves blocking Big Guy's line of sight.

Circling around, I moved quietly, staying low, avoiding anything that would give away my position. Listening to the slow and steady footsteps approaching the downed man I left behind, I managed to reach the end of the aisle just as he moved over his downed friend, rifle sweeping around as he looked for me.

Nudging a lone beer can from some forgotten party with my foot, I rolled it into his aisle. Spinning at the noise, the merc pointed his weapon but didn't fire this time. Leaning away, I tossed a card down my aisle, hitting and breaking a piece of glass reflecting light from the entrance.

Hearing that, the gunmen spun again, this time slowly stepping over his friend and heading away, allowing me to come around the corner and approach. Soldier or not, I could see by the slight shake in his dusty suit that I had succeeded in I'd rattling this one, at least.

I wasn't sure if it was natural paranoia, or perhaps instinct, but when he reached the end of the aisle, he spun around toward me. It was still too late, I was just behind him. Reaching out, I grabbed his weapon. A flash of my power causing the thing to emit smoke from its casing instead of lasers from the barrel.

Shocked, he backed away. Casually, with no expression on my face, I tossed his broken weapon aside, not saying anything, matching him step for step until the wall stopped his progress. I could hear his quick breathing and without his sunglasses, could see the fear in his blue eyes as he stared into my pitch black.

It was the kind of fear I'd seen in others before. The kind of fear that had earned me the name, _Le Diable Blanc long_ before people even knew _why_ they should have been afraid of me. Normally I went out of my way to show that people they had nothing to fear, but this wasn't one of those times.

I continued advancing until I was right in front of him. This close I could smell the harsh taint of tobacco on his breath when he opened his mouth.

"Shhhhhh," I whispered, putting my finger over his lips. He'd seen what I'd done to his rifle with the same hand that now touched him. It wasn't surprising he thought I could do the same to _him_. A lot of people who knew of me did.

"I hear the first time can hurt," I continued, my voice soft and intimate as I leaned closer. "But don't worry, _chérie_. Gambit will be gentle."

In his eyes, panic melded into confusion. It lasted all of two seconds before my left knee slammed into his groin with enough force to momentarily lift him off his feet. Leaning back, I quickly grabbed a hold of his ears, aiding his head downward as he folded, right into my right knee as it rose to greet him. This time, he didn't rise into the air a little bit, but slammed into the wall hard enough to rattle empty shelves halfway toward the exit before falling limply to the ground.

' _Three left,'_ I thought silently, leaving behind the unconscious duo to their well-deserved, pain-filled dreams. Hopefully, Vista had managed to keep the others from getting too far.


	30. Devil in the Church: Chapter 5

**Devil in the Church: Chapter 5**

Moving carefully, just in case, I risked looking through the broken storefront. No visual signs of the others immediately greeted me. The SUV had stopped smoking but the air reeked of gasoline mixed with an acrid taint of what I thought might have been spilled coolant.

Distant shouting brought my attention across the street, a bit further down the road. Unlike the building I was hiding in, this one didn't have a large boarded up window. Or any windows facing the street on the ground floor. The door was wide open, but the angry voices I could hear didn't sound like they were coming from the ground floor, but the second.

Only two windows weren't boarded up but didn't offer me any insight into what was going on inside. Not until one of them seemed fold slightly, bulge, then return to normal as if nothing had happened.

It happened so quickly I would have passed it off as fatigue from my injuries, or my eyes playing tricks on me, if I hadn't known Vista was around.

She must have somehow separated Dinah from her kidnappers while I was dealing with those two. Now to get her back the others were playing hide and seek inside an abandoned building with someone who played with reality like a kitten and a ball of yarn. It was a rigged game before it even started. I almost felt bad for them.

Still, these guys were persistent, and even Vista wouldn't be able to keep that going forever. She said she needed unobstructed line of sight to put real distance between Dinah and her kidnappers. That wasn't going to happen while trapped in a building.

Conscious of the seconds slipping away and the time I lost with the unconscious gunmen behind me, I looked down the empty street.

They should've been here by now but not only were they not, they weren't anywhere on the street that I could see. That meant they were waiting for these guys to rejoin their buddies before they did. Or, for me to cross the open.

Lovely.

"Well, I guess there's nothing left except to ante in," I muttered.

Sprinting across the street I leaped used the height of the old mailbox to get me high enough up the light pole. My feet no sooner hit when something sparked inches from my leg making my ears ring and white hot fire shoot up my side

Ignoring the pain as best I could, I threw myself toward the window Vista had previously affected a bit ago. Thankfully my powered boost allowed me to shatter the frame easily with my body and my coat protected me from the glass. Passing through, I caught a glimpse of a dark shape appearing on the road far down the street where the shot came from.

Rolling to a crouch in a rain of glass, I drew the attention of everyone in the hall which stretched out before me. At the far end, Vista stood in front of a pale and terrified Dinah. The area around her flexing and relaxing in a way that gave the impression the hallway was breathing. Between us were two of the guys from the car. Neither had their tinker weapons, but improvised wooden clubs.

Both looking right at me. About the only good news I could see here was that Vista had apparently been busy thinning their advantages.

"You," the spare I missed getting at Lord's hissed.

"Annoying, isn't it?" I asked, smirking at their expressions. "Like a bad penny, no?"

Only heads moved, everyone assessing their options. Blond buzz cut looked to Vista, then back to me. His companion, likewise assessed us both. Obviously noting that while his target was backed into a dead end I had a clear shot down that same hall. I met Vista's visored gaze. I couldn't see her eyes, but she could see mine. Quickly flicking them to the right, I hoped she caught it, and understood what was about to happen. With the other group coming, we'd only have a narrow window to make this happen.

Very narrow, I thought, as the cool tacky feeling spread at my side. I knew that my play needed to happen fast. Before my injury slowed me any more than it already had. I still had to get out of this mess.

"Since you boys picked the last game,mind if I choose this one?" I asked directing my full attention to the blond as I brought up my hand. "I was thinking five card, and queens are _wild._ "

Swinging my arm sent both men to the ground in an attempt to dodge my cards. A winning tactic normally, but I wasn't aiming at them. Grabbing Dinah, Vista moved them into the right corner even as the air around them distorted even more from her power.

All five burning cards rocketed down the hall. When they entered Vista's power the spread twisted until each card was stacked so closely it looked like I only threw one. They were also redirected into the opposite corner from Vista. The old building shook hard from the explosion filling my nose and mouth. Infusing me with familiar smells and tastes reminding me of my Street Rat days.

Rushing forward I slammed my knee into the closest. Twisting just enough put my boot across the blonde's head bouncing it off the wall.

Both men recovered quickly. Even as Buzz Cut's head hit the wall, his leg struck at the back of my knee.

"Get her out of here!" I shouted. I barely hit the floor when his partner grabbed the back of my jacket. Pulling my legs under me, I kicked from the ground hard enough to send both of us into the wall. Earning a surprised grunt from the man grabbing me and a curse when we hit.

"What? Without you?!" Vista asked over Dinah's coughing.

He was still holding on to me even as our sudden change slammed him into the wall. Stomping on his foot earned me a yell right in my ear. Tilting my head to the side, I brought my leg upward fast connecting the bridge of my foot with his face. The impact forcing his head back into the wall hard, and finally making him let go.

My distraction gave Buzz Cut enough time to get his feet, and he wasn't looking at me. Vista noticed it as well. My cards opened a large enough hole in the wall for them to get out. However, instead of doing so, Vista stood in front of Dinah protectively preparing for Buzz Cut's rush.

Striking the reeling man behind me with my elbow gave me enough room to throw another card. This one I threw right at Vista.

She barely had time to redirect it into the wall between her and Buzz Cut. Again the hallway shook dangerously. Overhead the roof partially gave way bringing down a large support beam that only missed Vista because of her power still holding that area.

It did bisect the hallway though, and that was better than I hoped for. Now, to even the odds against me.

Spinning, I hammered my fist into the man's stomach. Using my forearm to block his return strike, I returned with a kick to his side. Grabbing his arm I jerked hard enough to send him off balance. Ducking under it, I kept him off balance by once again jerking his arm putting him into an uncontrollable stumble. My jump became a twisting spin before I put my foot into the side of his head hard enough to take him clean off his feet. Impacting the floor with the back of his head.

The room spun sickeningly even as I completed the move back to my feet. This hallway didn't offer a lot of room for my usual style, and I was starting to feel all my accumulated injuries. I needed to get gone now that Vista finally got the hint.

A hard impact into my back sent me into the opposite wall. Using the momentum I used it to backflip over the mercenary. Before I could capitalize on his disadvantage, a large fist impacted against my cheek. Legs barely holding me up gave out once again spilling me to the ground.

A shadow over me, something grabbing my torn shirt before the rain of blows continued. Several to the stomach, sides, until they settled on my face. Each snapping my head side to side distorting the world into only fragments of shouts, vague images, and pain.

"You think this means anything, bitch?" a hard voice growled over me. "If not today, we'll get her sooner or later. Not that you'll be there to see it. This is the last time I, or anyone, is going to ever see _you_ again."

A pain racked cough sent blood flying from my lips. Everything hurt but the worse part was how weak I felt. I could barely see Buzz Cut looming over me, a massive looking knife in his hand. Intentions clear.

Still in his grip, I rasped, "Ever see The Wrath of Khan?"

Once again the hallway brightened from my power. This time however, it wasn't from one of my cards, but from the floor under me. The riot of fluctuating colors quickly spread away, moving like a pool of water until it covered a good portion of the hallway. Understanding instantly erupted behind Buzz Cut's eyes as he realized what I was doing.

Despite the blood trailing from my mouth and side, I smiled brokenly at his stunned expression. "I like how it ended."

"Are you _insane?_ "

"Most likely."

Chuckling regardless of the pain it sent shooting through me I watched his eyes narrow. He reared back, his intent to kill me written clear in his eyes. With the knife rushing toward me, I sparked my power.

 _XxXGambitXxX_

"Hide here," Vista said to her frightened peer indicating the huge rooftop fans of the building they were on. "I'll be right back."

Wrapping her arms around herself, Dinah nodded. "Please hurry."

Giving a reassuring smile, Vista nodded back. When she turned to prepare her leap back, the building Gambit was in lit in a flash of light. Boarded up windows exploded outward, smoke and dust quickly following.

"No," Dinah whispered before rushing toward the edge. "Gambit!"

Grabbing her shoulders Vista held her both to keep her from falling off the building and for her own support. Even as they watched, the roof wavered before partially collapsing inward sending an even greater cloud into the air and streets.

Swallowing thickly, Vista clenched her gut looking desperately for the cape but not seeing anything until another black SUV screeched to a halt. A man jumped out, looked through the cloud for a moment and then reentered the vehicle. It took off quickly heading away.

Pushing the button on the side of her helmet, she reported in.

"Console, this is Vista."

"Report, Vista," Director Piggot's frosty voice ordered.

"I have the victim but…"

"Velocity is still two minutes out. You were not given permission to engage."

"There wasn't time," Vista returned trying to keep her voice level despite her shock. "We have an emergency. The building we were trying to use to evade the kidnappers just fell on Gambit!"

The line was quiet a moment before the director asked, "Status on you and the victim?"

"Gambit bought us enough time to get to safety but…"

The Director's authoritative voice cut her off. "We will dispatch emergency vehicles to your current location to handle the situation there. You will clear the area and escort the victim to Earhart Street where Velocity will join you. Transport is already heading in your direction for retrieval."

"But, Ma'am, Gambit..."

"Is no longer your concern."

"She could be…"

"Need I remind you, Ward, of the perilous situation you are in? Console directed you to the Bank, you disobeyed. Console informed you that under _no_ circumstance were you to assist the villain, Gambit. You disobeyed. Console instructed you to not engage the kidnappers but to wait for Velocity, and you _disobeyed_."

"She's not a villain and there wasn't time!"

"Regardless to the emergency, objective, or success achieved, you are in a great deal of trouble, young woman," Piggot's iron voice continued. "The number of protocols and regulations you violated today is unknown to me as yet, but I will find every single one of them. When I do, we are going to have a very frank discussion about your future in the program.

"Now, start moving Vista. This is an order you do _not_ want to disobey. The very fact I had to be brought on to the Console should tell you exactly how serious your transgressions are."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Pacing back and forth in a spartan room of a seemingly abandoned factory, Danny cursed to himself. Renée should have been here by now. Calling her cellphone sent him directly to her voicemail. He left the office when the fourth call likewise didn't bear fruit. He told her where to go and at the moment, it was the only clue he had to where she would end up.

Every second passed agonizingly slow. Every small noise caused his heart to jump thinking it was her. Each echo sent him to the door only to be greeted by the empty factory floor.

He'd been here almost two hours, waiting. An hour ago it became too much. Risking heading back to the office, he put the word out to a few trusted people to keep an ear out for anything relating to Gambit. Once done, he rushed back to the factory hoping his calls weren't needed and she was waiting for him, but she wasn't. So he paced and waited. Either for her to arrive, or someone to bring him information on what was going on.

A loud screech of metal spun him around. Ignoring the twinge in his back at the fast movement, Danny rushed to the door. However, instead of the welcome face of his daughter, he was greeted by the confused face of his friend Kurt.

Kurt's expression wasn't promising when they locked eyes.

"What happened?" he asked quickly.

"Danny, what is..."

"What did you find out?"

"Fine," Kurt sighed, running his hand through his hair. "There was a cape fight over on Flowers. Remember Old Marty?"

"Welder, retired last year?"

"That's him. Well, his boy's in PD now and was one of the responders to the fight to keep an eye on the Emergency crews. When Old Marty asked his boy said that the fight was pretty bad and the PRT had intel that Gambit was involved."

"What happened? Was she hurt? Where is she now?"

"I don't know, but Danny, the building fell in," Kurt hesitantly said. "They think she was inside when it did."

"No," he whispered. Feeling his knees weaken Danny grabbed the door frame to keep upright.

"They pulled a trench coat and a couple of guys from the rubble," his friend hurried to say. "But not her yet. They're still searching but she might have gotten out before the roof fell."

Feeling his heart start beating again, Danny drew a shaking breath. "Yes, of course she did. She's resourceful, she had to have gotten away."

"Danny, what's going on? Seriously, why the interest in capes all the sudden?"

"Give me your phone."

"What? Danny…"

"Your cell phone, Kurt. Please!"

"Shit, yeah, here you go man."

Snatching the hateful device, Danny quickly pulled out his wallet. From it, a piece of paper. He eyed listed numbers in feminine scraw given to him not very long ago. Unsteadily dialing the number, he thankfully didn't have to wait long.

" _Bonjour."_

"Penny," Danny hurryingly greeted.

" _Danny?"_

"Listen, if Renée was hurt, where would she go?"

"Renée," Kurt asked in surprise. Raising his hands and shutting his mouth just as quickly at Danny's hard look.

" _Renée's hurt?"_ his daughters ex-roommate asked loud enough that both men heard it.

"I don't know," Danny answered. "Something happened earlier. She said someone was in trouble because of her and after that she was going to ground. I told her to meet me at a safe house I put together but she's not here. Penny, I need to find her."

" _She could be anywhere, Danny,"_ Penny answered worriedly. " _Finding hard to find places to lay low is something she's pretty good at. Ask anyone who's ever tried to find her when she didn't want to be found."_

"But if she was hurt, she just wouldn't go anywhere. So where would she go?"

" _How hurt?"_

Licking his lips, Danny ruthlessly pushed the bile rising up his throat. "A contact in the police department said they pulled her coat from inside a knocked down building."

Penny cursed. " _But not her, right?_ "

Looking at Kurt had the man shaking his head. "Not when I talked to him."

" _Who's that?"_ Penny asked sharply.

"A friend," Danny answered, eyeing Kurt the whole time.

" _He can be trusted?"_

"Without question. I've known him for half my life."

" _I hope you're right,"_ Penny sighed. " _Danny, if she's hurt she'll go somewhere no one would expect. Someplace isolated or far away from any people. She doesn't heal very fast unless she sleeps. Even then, depending on how bad it is, it could take a long time. Fractured ribs can take a week alone. If she was hurt badly she'll look for a place to sleep without worry of being found. Like abandoned buildings in the bad part of town."_

"That's a third of the city, Penny."

" _I'm sorry, Danny but that's what she would do. She wouldn't go near places she associates or that could be linked to her in any way. Not until the heat wore off or she could fabricate an alibi. If she's not in your safe house, then that only leaves abandoned buildings or..."_

"Or?"

" _Or the last place anyone would ever think to find a devil eyed woman."_

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Hissing in pain, I struggled momentarily with the large door before getting it open. Once inside, I was welcomed by a sweet scent not dissimilar to the incense Sister Mary used. Through blacken eyes, I squinted at the polished marble, dark woods and vibrant red carpet of the vestibule before finally focusing on the basin just ahead.

Stumbling, I thankfully made my way toward it without falling. Dipping shaking fingers into the water, I crossed myself, silently giving a prayer of thanks. Once finished, I painfully make my way forward. Struggling with another set of large doors before entering the nave.

After few steps inside I took a moment at the first first row of pew's. Clenching my teeth to keep from making a sound, I lowered myself to one knee, genuflecting to the tabernacle. Once again, crossing myself whispering the prayer long drilled into me by the Sisters.

The nave had a few people in it which looked ridiculous considering the size of the open area. Mostly just a few older women seated randomly. Most holding rosaries and whispering prayers aside from a guy lighting a candle.

None of them looked toward my direction. If they had they would have been treated to quite a sight. I was filthy, my shirt and pants ripped in several places showing torn and bloody skin. Unfortunately, I lost my coat to the ruined building, but all things considered, a small price to pay for my life.

Ignoring them, I once again stood, slowly stumbling down the aisle. Instead I paid attention to each step trying to keep my balance. A task made harder by the colors streaming through the stained glass windows.

I always enjoyed the riot of color they transformed sunlight into. Soaking everything beneath them in bright colors. Between that, the flowers, and beautiful paintings, the entire atmosphere of the church was a much needed peaceful environment. My painful progress eventually led me to a row of pew's that put me about as far from everyone as I could get.

Easing myself along, I kept my arm tight around myself until I reached my spot. Ribs once again protested the stress of lowering myself into the offered seat. Once settled, I took a moment to just breath. Thankful to be mostly out of sight and off my feet for the moment. The serenity of the church was just as welcome in my current exhausted state.

Bowing my head brought my hair to obscure my face. Hopefully that would discourage anyone from sitting next to me while I was here. I just needed to rest for a few moments before I continued looking for a spot to hold up for the night.

The creaking of the pew signaled the death of that hope.

"Are you alright, child?" the masculine voice asked. I had the impression of someone about Danny's age but not as old as Father Dominic. Looking through my hair showed greying man dressed in black.

"I won't stay long," I said lowly instead of answering.

"Were you attacked? I can call the police or an ambulance for you."

"No thank you. I'm fine."

"You don't look well, my child."

"How about relatively okay then," I said trying not to give into my chuckle. "Honestly, I'll be okay. I don't mean to impose."

"You can stay as long as you like. All of God's children are welcome in his house."

"That's kind of you to say but I just need a few moments to get my strength back."

"If you are sure," he said obviously not agreeing with my assessment. Thankfully he didn't push. "May I ask, why do you think you are unwelcome here?"

Looking a little closer revealed the while collar around his neck. That explained the interest. Curiosity to the point of conversation was usually frowned on during the quiet times. "I'm generally not that welcome in the church, Father."

"I do not understand why you would think so," the priest said quietly.

Chuckling weakly, I looked up and directly into the older man's eyes. Seeing them widen in shock as he got a good look at both the damage, and my own eyes. I smiled sadly at his reaction. "My… appearance isn't generally conducive to peaceful worship."

Sighing, I lowered my head again feeling the aches from all over throb to my heartbeat. Knowing I wasn't going to get any rest here, I reached for the pew in front of me to rise when the priest spoke again.

"No need for that," he assured me. Looking back, he offered me a sad smile of his own. "I am saddened to see such petty bigotry has affected someone so young. Is that how you became so injured? Where you attacked because of your appearance?"

Licking my lips, I tried not to hiss in pain from the split I received from Buzz Cut as I lowered my head again. If only so I didn't have to keep looking into the worried eyes of the man next to me.

"No. This was… something else."

"I can understand the need for secrecy, considering, but you really appear to need medical help. Are sure I can't at least call an ambulance for you? I'm sure they have contingencies for people in your position."

"No need to worry about me, Father. I always pay the debts I owe. Even for my sins."

"I can't see what a young woman like yourself could have done to earn what appears to be a vicious beating."

"I'm not a good catholic, Father," I said, sighing at his persistence. "Never claimed to be. Circumstances and my own choices see me walking a… sinful life by the church's standards. Which is fine, but we all have to pay for our vices sooner or later."

"And your, vices, earned… _this?"_

He remained quiet as I gathered my thoughts.

"It's the life I chose," I eventually answered. "Despite my lifestyle, I have always tried to do right by those I could, you know? Protect them from my sins, defend them when necessary. Even if it means a few weeks recovering. Or worse. Earlier it meant fighting. Right now, that means being alone."

Nodding, the priest looked toward the altar at the far end of the nave. "I see. So the reason you do not wish me to call an ambulance is because the police will get involved."

"Yeah, we're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment," I tried joking before clutching my ribs tighter as pain lanced through me.

"I hesitate to ask, but the ones who hurt you?"

"Were alive when I last saw them," I confessed quietly. "Though I'm not sure how happy they were about that. Things got… desperate at the end. If you think I look bad, you should see them. They're going to be recovering a lot longer than I will."

"I see."

The silence between us thickened uncomfortably. Again reaching for the pew to steady myself, I started rising to my feet. "I'm sorry to disturb the church, Father. I'll leave now. Thank you for allowing me to stay for a while."

Standing himself, the older man gently placed his hands on my shoulder, stopping me. Risking another look showed his concern.

"Rest, child."

"And should someone enter the church looking for me?" I asked wearily.

"This is the house of the Lord," the older man said. "The world of men stops at the door."

Lowering my head again, I whispered, "Thank you, Father. I won't impose much longer."

"Take as long as you need, my dear," he assured me as he left me alone.

Finally relaxing I allowed myself to be lost in the unique smells, warm colors, and general peace around me. At some point I must have blacked out because when I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in the nave anymore.

Tensing at having been moved without knowing it, I looked around as quickly as I could, considering. Someone had brought me to what looked like a small office or something. The couch I was laying on was a lot softer than the pew and a blanket had been draped over me. Moving my arm to bring it away from my face, I noticed the bandage over my bare arm. My boots were also sitting next to the desk in front of me instead of on my feet.

"Peace," a soothing feminine voice cautioned.

The voice belonged to an older woman. I amended that to nun as I took in her overall garb. She was kneeling next to me, holding a bowl of blood stained water complete with washcloth.

"Where am I?" I rasped.

"Father Benedict's office," she replied. "I am Sister Janice. Father Benedict brought you in here when you passed out and asked me to help you. Rest assured, child, no one but me has been in this room since you entered."

Relaxing slightly, I nodded. That was good. Lifting the blanket enough to look, I asked, "my clothes?"

"Were little more than filthy rags and more a hindrance to tending to your injuries than anything," the woman answered easily. Looking into her eyes showed she understood my discomfort but easily judged it acceptable to tend to me. "I found replacements that should fit you close enough in our collection surplus."

Following her hand, I noticed the pile of clothes sitting in the chair.

"Do you need help getting dressed?"

"No thank you. I think I can manage it. Sister?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Why are you helping me?"

The older woman smiled softly. "You are one of God's children in need."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know, but the answer is still the same."

I didn't know quiet how to reply to that. Considering how most reacted to me, I always considered Sister Mary's attitude to be more of the exception than the rule. I had enough biblical insults thrown at me over the last two years to feel confident in that. Yet, neither Sister Janice nor Father Benedict reacted the way I figured they should from past experience.

"I don't think I need to tell you that you are not in any condition to move about much," she continued. The look in her eyes telling me she guessed my thoughts but wasn't going to call attention to them. "Go slowly, and if you need help, I'll just be on the other side of the door. Alright?"

"Thank you Sister. For... everything."

Smiling gently, Sister Janice nodded. Rising, she carried the bowl to the door. Once she left, I started getting dressed.

Looking at the damage it didn't seem as bad as it felt. The bandage taped to my side was bloody, but not so much that the bandage wouldn't hold it. Several scratches, cuts, and such I'd gained over the afternoon were all taken care of. Sister Janice did good work, and far better than I deserved.

Lacing my boots back on, I considered my options. I needed to get in touch with Calle to find out how bad the warrant was against me. This whole thing started with Glory Girl, and according to my research, her mom was a damn good lawyer. That pretty much guaranteed the situation was bad even without adding grand theft auto, reckless driving, causing an accident, and instigating a parahuman fight at Lords. Pretty sure whoever owned the building I dropped was going to be pissed too, if for no other reason than for added charges.

I heard sirens when I crawled free of the ruin, so hopefully emergency crews got there soon enough so that I didn't have to worry about manslaughter charges. Looking through the window showed night had fallen. No traces of daylight at all.

Calle would also be the best option for passing a message along to Danny. He had to be out of his mind worrying right now.

Moving still hurt, but not as badly as it had earlier. If nothing else, my nap had done me some good. Taking a piece of paper from Father Benedict's desk, and his pen, I wrote a quick message thanking them for everything. Done, I opened the window easing myself through. There was no reason to involve the church in my troubles. They had been kinder than I deserved.

Moving along the stone building, I stuck as much as I could to what cover there was. Fortunate, as once I got to the corner overlooking the street, a car parked in front.

It was too open and I was too slow to risk leaving so I waited. Two men got out of the old car, appearing to be arguing quietly about something as they climbed the steps. At the doors, one turned to the other. Whatever he said made him rake his hand through his hair in a familiar manner. The first entered, leaving the second to wait outside.

Cursing my luck, I consigned myself to waiting until the man turned revealing a face I knew.

"Danny?"

He turned immediately to my whisper. "Renée?"

"Thank God." Danny rushed toward me, frustration that seemed etched into a haggard face replaced by worry as he approached. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"What are you doing looking at all?" I asked easing myself deeper into the shadows. "I told you I would contact you when I could."

Looking around and not seeing anyone watching, Danny stepped into my hiding spot. Eyes tracking over me taking in the visible damage. "Look at you…"

"I told you I can take care of myself, Danny. Do you have any idea how much trouble you're going to be in if the PRT or police place us at the same place after today?"

Concern and worry lined his face but he snorted at my comment. "Do you seriously think you're the first woman in my life to get me in trouble with either of those authorities?"

"What?"

"It might shock you to know, but you are far more your mother's daughter than you realize."

Shaking his head, Danny knelt beside me. Hand brushing my hair away from my bruised face as he touched me as gently as he could. "Oh, Renée."

"It looks worse than it is. I'm fine," I tried deflecting. "We can't be seen together, Danny. People are looking for me and I don't want you going down for my mistakes."

"And I am not going to let my daughter live on the streets," he returned firmly. "Look at you, Renée. You're barely able to sit here without hurting. You need a safe place to rest, medicine and someone to look you over to see how bad your injuries are. You could be bleeding internally or something."

"I've been tended too."

"Maybe, but you still need a safe place until we figure out what to do. Where did you plan to stay? Some drafty powerless building? How is that going to help you get better? How are you going to take care of yourself? You need help and I am not going to let you hurt yourself more than you already have."

"You are the _worst_ kind of minion," I grumbled knowing he was right.

"I'll take that as compliance," Danny chuckled weakly. "Come on, let's get you in the car. As soon as Kurt get's back, we'll take you somewhere safe."

Not resisting his help to my feet, I let Danny walk me to the car. "Kurt's good people?"

"You used to call him Uncle Kurt."

Instead of asking again, I sighed and let it go. If Danny trusted him, then that was about as good as it was likely to get. Proof would be in the doing.

"I need to get in contact with Calle to find out how bad, bad is."

"I'll arrange that, as well as make a few calls of my own once we get you settled."

"Who?" I couldn't help asking curiously.

"Associates from the old days," Danny replied vaguely. "Some of them might still have connections into the life and they owe me."

"People owe you?" I asked letting my smile form. "Old days? Sounds like there's a story there."

"You would be surprised at the favors I've accumulated over the years," he answered. "One of the benefits of being an old man who's been around the block a time or two."

Opening the car door, he helped me into the rear seat before taking the passenger front. Once his own door was closed, he turned to me.

"I won't lose you again. We will figure this all out, Renée."

I shook my head. "This is a rather large mess, Danny. The PRT knows I was involved and I dropped a building on people. They might have been kidnappers, but that isn't going to protect me in the courts. That doesn't even include that mess at Arcadia with Clockblocker and Glory Girl."

"Don't worry about the Dallon's," Danny smirked. "From what I hear, your lawyer is better."

"Maybe, but it's still shooting craps and the dice are not exactly rolling in our favor."

"Then we'll just have to cheat," he said. "And I happen to know a few people who can help with that. Some help is already on the way."

The driver's door opened letting in a man with the frame that spoke of someone who'd done manual labor all his life.

"I talked to a priest in there, but he wouldn't say if he saw her or not," he said, turning to Danny once he was inside. Then noticed me.

"Bonjour."

After a moment of staring, he turned back to Danny.

"Kurt, I'm sure you remember my daughter Renée."

"I knew he was lying," Kurt grumbled, turning the key. "Where too?"

"Back to Estate Paper," Danny answered.

"Good. She looks like she needs rest and I need a beer. Or six."

Smiling at 'Uncle Kurt's' reactions, I allowed myself to relax in the seat. This mess was likely to end any chance I had for a 'normal' life with Danny. But for this moment, I had this.


	31. Devil in the Church: Interlude Partner

**Devil in the Church: Interlude Partner**

Missy stared at the blank form in front of her. Questions needed answers. Summary's needed to be written to explain her actions. The Director herself gave her until nine to get it done. That was two hours away. In all the time since she was grounded to the Ward Room, she hadn't done a single one. Instead her mind wandered over the Directors ire over her disobedience, and of course how to write the report in a way that wouldn't make Gambit look bad.

She could understand, did understand, why Ms. Piggot was mad at her. Missy knew she was breaking all kinds of rules to help Gambit, but it was the _right_ call. Even Velocity said so, even if he said she couldn't tell anyone he said it. She might have been the Ward with the most experience, but in the eyes of the public, she was 'cute little Vista'. The last thing the PRT, Protectorate, and especially the Ward's Program needed was something bad to happen to one of them and make it so that they couldn't help anymore. Everyone knew Director Piggot got away with a lot more when it came to them than other places did. Something that made Missy happy to be apart of the Brockton Bay team. Here, even if they treated her like a little kid most of the time, they could still do some good.

Unfortunately, that was half the problem now. Taking the initiative like she had wasn't doing Gambit any favors. As Missy thought about it, if anything, her actions were going to make the PR people point the finger at Gambit for the stuff that happened, and that wasn't right. Had Missy been older, she knew the scrutiny wouldn't be nearly as bad as it was. There wouldn't be _any_ if she as one of the adult heroes.

But her being young didn't make her wrong. Sadly, it also didn't help with the damn report. Missy didn't have a problem taking her lumps when she earned them, and she earned her share this time, but Gambit didn't deserve the crap that was being said about her. If anyone knew that, it was Missy. She was there, talked with Gambit, saw the drive that sent her to rescue the victim.

If that wasn't heroic, then they needed to redefine the term. Seriously.

It was a welcome distraction when the green light above the door turned on signifying someone trusted was entering. Until opened and showed it was Dennis.

He looked rather rough around the edges. Once inside the door closed and he took off his mask showing his face was as emotionally haggard as his costume was. Walking over to her table, he sat down.

"Dennis," Missy started to say before the cape across from her shook his head.

"Assault finally came in."

"Gambit?" She asked worriedly.

"Wasn't in the building," Dennis answered looking just as relieved as Missy suddenly felt. "The only thing they found was her coat and those three guys you said were in the building."

"Were they…"

"Yeah, still alive but in a bad way. Rushed over to Mercy General but Assault said they'll likely pull through."

Blowing out a breath, Missy slumped in her seat. She personally knocked out one of those guys on the ground floor and it had been weighing on her terribly.

"What a mess, right?" Dennis half joked.

"You're not kidding. I still don't know what to put in the report and the Director want's it by nine."

"Tell me about it. She just reminded me I still have to do one for Bay Central."

Wincing at the reminder, Missy reached over to grab her friend's hand. "I'm so sorry for not being there, Dennis."

"Don't be," he assured her. "I would have done the same thing. At least you managed to do something other than making an ass out of yourself in front of half the city."

"It was that bad?"

"Yeah. Did you hear what Chris pulled?"

Missy shook her head. She hadn't heard anything since she was banished and only snippets of what had happened as she made her way here.

"You know that big ass gun he's been obsessing over? The one he tried justifying was for A class threats?"

"He didn't."

Snorting, Dennis nodded. "What do you think tore up half steps and the lobby? Regent knocked him out and started firing the damn thing everywhere. I'm just glad he didn't know how to change settings. Chris had it on low and the damage that thing was doing was nuts."

"That explains what I overheard about Chris being in lockdown."

"Director's orders pending oversight review," Dennis confirmed. "Even if they cut him slack, he's still going to end up with huge restrictions and even harsher oversight over his tinkering."

"That sucks. Poor Chris."

"Poor all of us. Man, this day, seriously."

"No kidding," Missy sighed looking at the whiteboard someone dragged in. The Undersiders were listed each with their own columns. Powers, assessments, and observations. "At least we know more about them. They never stuck around long enough for us to get a feel for their powers before."

"Yeah, Carlos tried spinning that as the upside earlier. Would have been more impressive if he hadn't been holding a couple of towels in the giant holes Hellhound's freaky dogs gave him."

"How badly was he hurt?"

"They used him like a human squeaky toy," Dennis answered. "Two of them even tried to play tug-a-war with Carlos as the rope. Would have been funny except for all the blood and the big holes in his body."

Shuddering, Missy's eyes looked to the other whiteboard in the room. This one, with Gambit's name listed on it. Someone had added the known factors from her file, which wasn't much. Basically boiling down to explody powered playing cards, current suspected villain connections, and the like.

Looking at Dennis showed he was looking at the board as well. Like her, he wasn't in any hurry to be the first to have to pick up that pen.

"She saved that girl," Missy whispered drawing Dennis to look at her. "Gambit. If it wasn't for her, I never would have been able to separate the victim from her kidnappers. She cut their numbers so when they got careless, I could use it. She stayed and bought time for me to get us out of there. Gambit is the only reason I was able to do anything."

"Write that."

"I can't," Missy sighed, throwing her pen on the table. "For everything good there's something bad and I'm worried that the only thing they care about is the bad. They're not going to believe Little Vista that the only hero in that fight, was the _villain_."

"Tell me about it."

Seeing frustration on his face, Missy asked, "Dean still giving you a hard time?"

"That is a completely different problem," Dennis growled. "Sorry, Missy. Just, leave that one alone, alright?"

"Yeah, sure."

After several moments of silence, Dennis got up to get his own report form. Once seated back at the table and noticing Missy still hadn't written anything, he asked, "So, how bad is bad?"

"Pretty bad," Missy hedged. "I went back to school because I heard the gunfire. By the time I got there the fight was on the other side of the campus. There was a couple of cars smashed up out front and a witness I could barely understand trying to tell me her friend was being kidnapped and Gambit was chasing them."

"Why couldn't you understand the witness?" Dennis asked.

"She was talking so fast I barely caught every other word," Missy answered with a smile. "I know her from Science class, she's always like that but she was pretty shook up earlier. Even tried to stop the kidnapping herself."

"Really?"

Missy nodded. "Yeah, one of them gave her a black eye that's going to take a long time to fade too."

"Damn. Remind me not to pick a fight at Lords," Dennis tried joking. "So where did the bad come in?"

"There was an unconscious guy lying in an indented roof of car with a car door laying next to him," she continued. "If he didn't have any broken bones, I'll give you my Ward allowance for a month. Wasn't hard to find the action from there. Gambit left a couple of others beaten unconscious. I caught up in time to see her hit a guy into another getaway car and when I approached her she was carjacking some civi's car to chase them. That was all before we left the school and doesn't account for the stuff that went down when we caught up to the kidnappers."

"Yeah, that's bad."

"Yeah," Missy muttered. "But, you know, she was fearless the whole time. They shot at her, and it just didn't matter. She just kept throwing herself at them. Even had me put her on the hood of the getaway car while it was moving just so she could safely wreck it without hurting the victim."

"She did what?" Dennis asked wide eyed.

"Yeah, it was one of the craziest things I've ever seen. Your girlfriend is _nuts,_ " Missy said. However, her mirth didn't last long. "I was so worried about her when she went through that boarded up window though. They sent two guys with tinker rifles in after her but she was alright because one of the screamed. Since she was alight enough to fight, I used the distraction to get Dinah away from the kidnappers. Once they let go of her, I was able to snatch her back."

"That's what led to you guys going in that old building?"

"Yeah. Gambit's idea actually."

"She suggested it?"

Shaking her head, Missy clarified. "No. I made a joke about how my power is kind of like a funhouse, but without the fun. Gambit joked back saying it depended on which side of the glass you were on. It's what gave me the idea. They saw us going in, and when they followed, I used my power to twist everything into a funhouse of warped space.

"I was able to knock out one guy that way and break their tinker weapons but they trapped us on the second floor. That's when Gambit saved us again. Dynamic Entry right through the window. Even used a couple of one liners on the guys chasing us."

Looking across the table, Missy stared directly into Dennis's eyes. "You should have seen her go. She blew a hole in the wall so I could use my power to get us out of there. Then she kicked the crap out of those guys. I mean, she was just all over them, Dennis. I saw her power at work, if she wanted to she could have killed them at any time. But she didn't. She limited herself to just trying to knock them out."

"When we were hanging out, she didn't say it, but I don't think her powers have a 'safe' setting, you know?" Dennis added.

"On your date?" Missy asked, smiling.

Rolling his eyes at the blatant trolling, Dennis nodded. "I suggested we didn't talk about powers and stuff cuz, you know. But some of the things she said make me think that. I mean, her powers are exploding things and nothing in her file suggests she's ever used them to their full extent. She's known for knocking her enemies around, not blowing them up, but based on stuff, she _could_."

"It would explain a whole lot," Missy agreed. "That was the only reason she couldn't break free to get to us. Those guys were tough and just wouldn't stay down. Then the building started coming down and she yelled at me to get Dinah out. I swear I was going to go back for her, Dennis. But…"

"You did what you had to and there was the victim to think about," Dennis sighed. "I don't blame you for that, Missy."

"She sacrificed herself for us," Missy muttered. "I don't know what went wrong after I left, but I saw the flash and that had to be Gambit. Something went bad in there. I _know_ she brought down that building to make sure we got away but no one is going to believe me. I just hope she's alright."

"She wasn't in the building so she had to have been alright enough to get away. Assault told me PD looked around for a few blocks but didn't find any trace of her."

Looking around, Dennis leaned in toward the younger girl. "I didn't say this, but on our date, she noticed some people following us, like she noticed you and Chris. Called someone and told them to back off. I don't know who it was, but she was joking with them. I think whoever that was found her and got her out before the cops started looking."

"Oh, I hope so."

The alarm brought both of their attention to the door, and the green light above it. When the door opened, the mask face of their graduated friend greeted them.

"Thought I would find you two here," he said while removing his mask.

"Rory," Dennis greeted. "What brings you down here with the beaten and downtrodden?"

"You guys actually."

"That's not ominous," Dennis said. "Please don't tell me Ms. Piggy sent you down here to hassle us over the reports."

"No, and don't call her that. And if _Director Piggot_ asks, I wasn't here at all," the lion themed hero stated. Grabbing a seat, he joined them at the table.

Seeing had both Wards attention, he directed his to the younger girl. "A couple of things. First, you are lucky you walked away from today alive, Missy. What were you thinking going solo against those kinds of people? Do you realize what could have happened to you? What it would have done to us if you _died?_ "

Her open mouth closed at his look. When he was sure she wouldn't interrupt him, he continued. "Now that _that_ is out of the way, secondly, thank you. I know you're taking a huge hit for it but thank you for what you did."

"What?" Dennis asked, blinking at the heartfelt words from the older teen. Looking to Missy showed she was just as confused as he was.

"You have no idea who you saved, do you?" Rory asked as his eyes moved between the teens. "The girl you saved today was Dinah Alcott. Dinah is my cousin."

Grinning at the stunned looks his announcement generated, he continued. "I don't know her very well, but I've babysat for her a few times a couple of years ago. I've been on the phone half the evening with Dad who was also on the phone with my Uncle over what you did for us."

"Man is that what this whole thing was about?" Dennis asked. "Someone was trying to kidnap the Mayor's niece?"

Rory nodded. "Dad thinks so. My Uncle isn't in politics, owns a dealership over on Preston in downtown, but the concern about it happening has come up in the past. There's another reason why it might have happened, but we're not talking about it yet."

"It wasn't just me, Rory," Missy finally said. "I mean, I didn't know and your welcome, but I was just in the right place at the right time. I was just trying to help. But it wasn't just me that got her free. The whole thing couldn't have happened without Gambit."

"Yeah, Gambit," Rory chuckled strangely. "Trust me, that has come up a lot too. Dinah's been begging for information on her and telling anyone who will listen how worried she is about Gambit. Partly why I'm here."

"We don't know anything you couldn't find out by talking to the adult heroes," Dennis groused. "Seriously, you're likely to hear something before either of us does."

"A fair point, and one I've already looked into. Talked to Ethan when I clocked in. Also talked to a few others and had a look at what is known so far. Which, isn't much."

"Has anyone found Gambit?" Missy asked. "She could be hurt."

"No. Theory is she's gone to ground and talk is that until she surfaces, we're not going to find her," Rory answered. "Rumor is she's good at this kind of thing."

"What did Dinah say about what happened?" Dennis asked. "How did Gambit even find out what was going on? Missy said Gambit was trying to stop it as it was happening."

Looking to the younger teen, Rory raised an eyebrow. "You know that officially, I can't comment about that kind of thing, Dennis."

Giving it a moment, he smiled. "Unofficially, I can tell you, Dinah said a lot. However, I know for a fact one connection between Dinah and Gambit is that Dinah is part of the same Girl Scout Troop that Gambit's been hanging around with. Saw it myself when I answered a call with Prism to check out one of the meetings and Assault said both were at another girl's birthday party."

"No way," Dennis said, smiling widely. "Dinah is part of the Girl Scout Mafia?"

"The Girl Scout _what?_ "

"Hey, I didn't start that," Dennis said over Rory's chuckle and Missy's giggles. "That's what Assaults been calling it. I heard it from a PRT trooper who was laughing about it after Assault told him Gambit was teaching them how to play poker."

Leaning against the table, Missy put her chin over her hands. "You know, Ms. Halls is always after me that I need a hobby that isn't beating people up. Maybe I should join the Girl Scouts. That will give the Mafia _two_ capes and we did work pretty good together. I bet we would sell _all_ the cookies."

"I doubt very much that is what the Youth Guard rep had in mind for a hobby, Missy," Rory said, rolling his eyes.

"I know. That's half of why I think it would be fun," she replied impishly before sighing. "Especially if my report is as badly received as I'm worried about. I think I'm about to beat out Dennis for the longest run of Console duty ever. Not to mention how I'm afraid they're going to hang Gambit for the things that happened."

"Which reminds me," Rory muttered, reaching into his costume. After a moment, he looked at Missy in the eyes. "Privacy bubble?"

Blinking at the odd request, the air around the table began warping. Everything beyond them twisted into caricatures of normality.

Nodding thanks, Rory held his hand out to Dennis. "This, never happened. Just like what I'm going to say, wasn't said, and if anyone ever asks me if I said it, I will deny it. Okay?"

Reaching for the small item, Dennis held the earring between two fingers looking confused. "Dude?"

"Rumor has it that it's more likely you're going to see Gambit before anyone else does," Rory said. "She might want her earring back."

"Are you serious?"

"That I didn't give that to you? Yes. Yes I am. Just like I'm serious that Ethan didn't fail to put that into evidence and gave it to me."

"You guys could get into so much trouble for that," Missy squeaked.

"Rory, seriously, what the hell?" Dennis asked.

"Between the three of us," Rory explained seriously. "This didn't happen, so no one should get into trouble for anything. That said, it doesn't matter. People know she was there so this doesn't mean anything. Ethan said he owed her for calling in that Empire pit fight and this was his way of cleaning the slate between them. It might not mean anything, but he said it looked 'old' to him so it might mean something to Gambit to get it back. Which wouldn't happen for a long time if it's in evidence."

"Rory, if anyone finds out about this," Dennis said. "And if this was a deal to Assault, why get you involved?"

"Because he's been banned from talking to anyone in the investigations because it's known Gambit is something of his pet project. It's no secret around here he's been trying to turn her hero," Rory explained. "He wasn't even supposed to be at the site, and Piggot tore strips out of him as soon as he got back."

"But, why you man?"

"Because he knows who Dinah is to me and knew I was going to come up here," he answered. "Now you know why I asked Missy for privacy. You guys know what this means if it gets out."

Once heads nodded in understanding Rory continued. "Good. Now that we're all agreed that this didn't happen, I'll ask a question I didn't ask. How's the report coming, Missy?"

Still a little punch drunk over events from the normally straight laced hero, she answered honestly. "I haven't even started it yet."

"Because it would make Gambit look bad?" he asked.

"It kinda _is_ bad," Missy nodded glumly. "I just know they're going to focus on that and make her the scapegoat. You weren't there, Rory. She so doesn't deserve this."

"Maybe," Rory conceded. "Want some advice?"

"Could you help me make this not make Gambit look bad?" Missy asked hopefully.

"You would be amazed at what I learned about report writing from Ethan," Rory smirked. Looking at the hopeful faces in front of him, it faded somewhat as he continued. "I will say this. I don't know if Gambit is a villain or not. Everything about her is circumstantial but none of it would even be in her file if there wasn't something to it."

Rory raised his hand to stop Dennis from talking. When he closed his mouth, Rory continued. "But, I've met Gambit and she seemed like a stand up cape. She was good to the Scouts, and I know for a fact she risked her life for Dinah. For that alone, she gets a pass for today and I'll keep an open mind until someone can conclusively prove one way or the other if she is, or isn't, a villain."

"You're the best," Dennis said, clapping his older friend on the shoulder. Missy nodded smiling as she grabbed her pen.

"To be clear, this won't be something I'll do again," Rory warned the Wards. "I'm not even doing it now, and the only reason I am here is to make sure neither of you try fudging the report and making more trouble for yourselves than you can handle. I have no idea what the official stance on today is going to be, but a lot of that will have to do with the PR spin. That spin starts with the report. Piggot will wait to see what the blowback is going to be and what grace we have is that Dennis here screwed up publicly at the bank."

"I'll take that hit," Dennis nodded easily.

Smiling, Missy asked, "Where do we start?"

"Keep up the bubble and give me the sequence of events. Leave nothing out," Rory answered.


	32. Devil in the Church: Chapter 6

**Devil in the Church: Chapter 6**

Danny's safe house was a surprise. He'd pointed it out to me some time ago and I remember thinking it was well situated for an outpost or gathering point for people who didn't want anyone else knowing what they were doing.

The old factory was surrounded by other old factories and large open parking lots that used to serve the workforce. That made it idea for decent lines of sight during the day, and the lack of power and working street lights meant it worked well for getting in and out without being seen during the night. But, what made it a surprise wasn't its location, it was what waited for us inside.

The section devoted to office work had been cleaned up. It wouldn't pass hotel inspections by any means, but inside was a room with a clean mattress, cases of bottled water, a well stocked first aid kit, and other amenities that I would expect to find in a safe house that was seldom used, but kept up just in case. There was only one window, boarded up on the outside, the inside painted black with aluminum foil laid across it for added privacy. From where they sat me as Danny and Kurt moved about preparing the room, I could see it wasn't perfect, but still well done.

The generator was hidden in an adjacent room. It was surprisingly quiet when Kurt kicked it to life, the exhaust being piped to the main factory floor through a hole in the wall. There was even a port-a-potty in the same room, which I was relieved to see, even if it made me wonder how Danny had managed to get one at all, much less get one hidden in here.

All of this sparked my interest. This wasn't a first attempt. Everything from the location, how it was set up, to the supplies on hand spoke of something that had evolved from long experience. It said a lot about Danny's competence at such things, not to mention hinted that Danny knew a lot more than a straight arrow should know about such things.

The mattress had even been wrapped in plastic to keep it from going bad. A fact I was thankful for when Kurt and Danny unwrapped and prepared it. I wasn't in a position to be picky, and I'd slept on worse in the past, but that didn't mean I wanted to if other options were available. I could count on one hand the times I'd been this injured and from prior experience knew I was going to be here for a while, assuming we didn't get found before I recovered.

My first day here passed in brief moments of coherence. I'd wake, Danny would help me eat, drink, take medicine they got from somewhere, and take me to the bathroom. It was exhausting to the point that there wasn't much in me to ask many questions or get answers.

"Yes, Renée, I talked to Calle. He'll be here tomorrow," Danny said repeatedly until it was practically a his go to line for anything I asked.

It was better on my second day. Still too weak to move on my own without help, but better with longer periods of consciousness. Which was fortunate for when Calle arrived.

I was just finishing a bowl Kurt brought me. A surprisingly light and flavorful chicken soup. It was more broth than the actual soup that his wife Lacey made but in my current condition, it tasted almost as good as anything Penny had ever made.

The sound of the door opening signaled Calle's arrival. Dressed in an impeccable and expensive looking dark suit, he contrasted greatly with our hiding spot. Everything about his appearance looked tailored, from the styled look of his hair, the crisp white of his shirt, to the shine on his black shoes. While Danny's people had cleaned up the place before we occupied it, this was still a room in an abandoned building and looked it. Calle looked ready to walk into a courtroom, or a fancy dinner party.

I'd only met him once before, when I first contracted his unique services. The suit was different, but everything else about him was the same now as then. The friendly smile on his face was only marred by a long scar that ran from his nose across his cheek. Long healed, it was puckered as if it had been caused by fire or some kind of acid. A stark reminder of the kind of clientele he regularly represented.

Despite his prim attire, there was no denying his experience. Calle didn't bat a single long eyelash at meeting in such a place. Nor could anyone deny the intelligence behind his gaze as he looked me over noting my condition and the damage I was sporting.

"Miss. Hebert," Calle greeted as easily as if we were meeting in his office. "I do hope you are better than you appear."

"I feel better than I did yesterday, Mr. Calle," I replied, offering a slight smile of my own as well as my hand. "It could have been a lot worse."

"Indeed. I have found that such things usually tend to fall into that line. Ah, Thank you, Mr. Hebert. Very kind," Calle said after lightly shaking my hand. Danny moved a chair next to my makeshift bed along with a folding table for Calle to put his briefcase.

He looked ridiculous sitting in the folding chair dressed as he was. The mirth in his eyes when he once again turned his attention to me showed his own amusement at my reaction. Opening his briefcase, he pulled a notepad and gold plated pen.

"The phone call I received only said you were in trouble with likely legal ramifications. However, before we get into the details, a couple of things. First, I should make you aware that while there are laws in place to prevent spouses from testifying against each other, there are no similar laws in place to protect parents and their children. Therefore I am bound to ask if you wish to discuss matters with Mr. Hebert present?"

"You think they'll make him testify against me?"

"It's possible, though unlikely due to how sensitive these types of situations can be," Calle answered easily. "I have personally only seen it happen a few times, and of those times, the parent chose to do so. In either case I will, of course, do what I can to minimize all negative outcomes but the possibility exists should matters be forced to the point that we see this carry into a courtroom. I ask as a matter of not just his protection, but your own. I will be asking you some very detailed questions about the situation which brings me here today."

It was a strong point, and one Danny seemed to understand, though he didn't look happy about it.

"I'll leave…"

"No," I interrupted. "If Danny wants to stay, he can."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I trust you," I answered honestly. "But Calle's right. If push comes to shove, you could get into a lot of trouble for knowing the details. A lot more than you currently would be."

Smiling, Danny nodded retaking his seat.

"You're the client," Calle said. "The second point I would like to raise is that despite whatever the current situation might be, you realize there is very little I can do from a legal standpoint until charges are filed and you are in custody, correct?"

"What do you mean?"

"Until such time as you are formally charged, there is no case to defend against," Calle explained. "I can, and will, gather materials in preparation of such. However, to the best of my knowledge the situation has not progressed to the point where I can personally affect it.

"Typically these situations proceed in a very methodical manner. A crime, or series of crimes, is allegedly committed. Witnesses are interviewed, evidence is collected, and suspects are assessed. Based on these factors if an arrest has not yet taken place, warrants are made for arrests or to further the first step of collecting additional evidence."

"I'm well acquainted with the basics of an investigation, Mr. Calle," I said, smiling.

"Of that, based on prior interactions with you, I have no doubts. I was merely explaining as a matter of courtesy for your father."

"I'm sure the laws have changed since I was last in this situation," Danny said. "Especially when capes are directly involved, but I'm familiar with the basics myself from... prior experience."

"Oh?" Calle muttered before smiling showing his very white teeth. "Unexpected but very nice. It is always pleasant to deal with knowledgeable individuals. Sadly, most of my clients are typically limited to what they see on T.V. and the judicial system of the real world doesn't have the same dramatic flair. Since there is no need for the basics, we can proceed toward what happened. Miss. Hebert, if you would and please, leave nothing out. The more I know, the better I can protect your interests."

Sighing, I nodded. Calle asked a few questions for clarity but mostly listened. Despite my usual distaste for it, I answered honestly, keeping my eyes away from Danny. Not that it helped not see his winces or hear his occasional mutterings. Neither loud enough to draw the iron, if strangely easy going, focus of Calle, but more than enough for me to notice. Especially after his questions reminded me about that mess with Glory Girl at Arcadia.

"I already heard about it, actually," Calle noted casually. "Though I didn't know you were the young woman who was accosted."

"How?" I asked before rolling my eyes. "Oh, don't tell me it's already on the PHO?"

"The incident took place in a public location," Calle answered, chuckling at my reaction. "But whether it is or is not being discussed on Parahumans Online, I don't know. I heard it from my niece. She is interested in a career in Parahuman Law and interns in my office for the experience. Brought the topic up due to her curiosity about unintentional use of parahuman powers in a public venue when they have an area of effect."

"And what did you tell her?" I asked, curious myself.

"That this particular case is unique. Miss Dallon is a public cape following in the footsteps of her parents and their heroic organization, New Wave. Another fact of the situation is that the reported confrontation was limited to a verbal argument. It is a matter of public record that Glory Girl's aura is rated Shaker, not Master as seems to be popularly speculated due to the emotional influences. It unfortunately isn't something she can turn off," Calle answered.

"All parents who send children to Arcadia are required to sign waivers to the effect that they understand parahumans attend the same school as their children and that such incidents are possible. It gives the school a great deal more leeway when dealing with such matters as well as protects them from liability."

From where he was sitting, Danny nodded thoughtfully. "I remember signing that form for your entrance to Arcadia. I thought it strange, but remembered a conversation I once had with Annette before she, well."

After a moment to collect himself, Danny continued. "The point is we were discussing high school options for when Renée was old enough for enrollment. We were having a disagreement over which was the better option. Arcadia or Winslow."

"The same argument we had, except you wouldn't give me an opinion on it," I said raising an eyebrow at the previously unknown caveat. "Why were you talking about high school options for me when I would have still had several years of primary to attend?"

Smiling sadly, Danny nodded. "A point I made back then as well, actually. Your mother however felt it prudent to have a direction in mind before your final elementary year. It pains me that you don't remember her, kiddo, but your mother was quite active in all aspects of your life."

It was plain to see Danny meant every word. How much her passing had hurt him, and still hurt him despite his healing. My smile matched his as he continued. "Annette believed Arcadia had more options that aligned with your interests at the time. I had thought Winslow would be less personally intensive for you, and might have offered more options to be yourself without the academic pressures Arcadia was known for."

"Why didn't you mention that before?" I asked.

"We never came to an agreement," Danny answered. "Annette obtained forms from both schools and we spent several nights going over them. Offered programs, academic possibilities and such. In the end we decided that when the time came, we would let you make the choice of which one you wanted. My main point however is that even then both schools had similar forms involving possible parahuman incidence and liabilities."

"Yes, it has been standard procedure for some time," Calle agreed. "Especially with the increase of young teenage parahuman incidents. In the last few years I've represented several such individuals myself. A few involved incidents at schools like Winslow and Arcadia."

I nodded, moving slightly to get more comfortable. I'd heard of a couple of stories like that back in New Orleans. Rumor had it that was how Baritone had ended up in the Wards. I hadn't been there to see it, happened a few months before I'd woken up there, but I remembered talk among the Rats after I'd joined. According to them, Baritone had been living in an orphanage at the time he'd gotten powers and had been friendly with several Street Rats. Had even done a few small jobs with them. They'd considered him one of them.

Then one day, something happened that put him at odds with some high school seniors. Supposedly, one of them had been beating him up pretty good when it happened, and Baritone had fought back, putting several in a hospital. The next time anyone saw him, he'd been a Ward, no longer living at the orphanage and the people who worked there refused to admit he ever had. It had been a sore spot with his friends still in the Rats when he'd cut ties and dedicated himself to his new life.

I personally knew of a similar situation that had happened a year ago but instead of the Wards, she'd joined up with Bayou Amos. That one I knew more about, but only because it attached attention to a part of the city we'd been operating in and caused a few issues for my own group. Called herself Whiplash. A ranged kinetic manipulator that was absolutely a pain to deal with. Both in a fight, and personally. Thankfully Amos never sent her around to collect the rents otherwise he would have less people willing to pay them. She was about as subtle as a brick thrown through a window.

Shaking myself from those thoughts, I returned my attention back to Calle. "So what do you think is likely to result from what happened?"

Tilting his head back, Calle considered it a few moments. "Miss Dallon is a hero in good standing and a member of a respected and established organization generally known for accountability and good relations with both the PRT and Protectorate. In all likelihood Arcadia will ask Miss Dallon to write a letter of apology to those students who were initially caught in her powers effect. The school will issue a letter to their parents and the issue will be fuel for gossip for a while. If I'm right, Mr. Hebert should receive such a letter within a few days. I don't imagine they will allow it to sit too long."

"That's it?" Danny asked. His face slightly flushed and pinched. "Glory Girl confronts a cape in a public place while she's unmasked, and all that happens is that she has to write a letter and she gets off without a reprimand?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be reprimanded," Calle casually stated. "Both by the school and from her parents. If only for the negative attention the situation directs toward their team. Such events are bad for business, after all."

"And the fact Gallant outed me to her?" I asked, no where as surprised by the apparent double standard as Danny was. "I'd never personally encountered her before the other day."

"Allegedly outed," Calle corrected. "Although considering your lack of prior interaction with her it is a plausible allegation. One that might prove to make an interesting bargaining chip depending on how hard the PRT and Protectorate wish to take your actions the other day. I'll look into it, discreetly of course, when the time comes, but the implications are interesting.

"Until then it is important to note that the only people who know about Miss Hebert's status as a cape, were Clockblocker and Glory Girl. Until we can prove otherwise, we can only speculate that Gallant knows about Miss Hebert's alter ego. However, before I investigate that, we should finish our discussion here."

Frowning, I nodded continuing where I left off prior. Explaining Angela's call led to who she was and who I thought might have been behind it and why it happened. Then my race to Lords, seeing the kidnappers with Dinah and the running fight through the school to teaming up with Vista.

That seemed to interest Calle quite a bit. He asked more questions, listened more intently to the answers as I proceeded to explain what had followed. Our rooftop run, wrecking the car and Vista snatching Dinah back before leading the kidnappers on a merry chase while I thinned their numbers. Finally the end where I brought down the building. Most of his questions at the end were centered around Vista's actions and reactions to things I said and done.

Danny hadn't spoken at all during this time. Just sat in his chair. His face shifted with emotions as he listened. The white of his knuckles gripping the back of the chair he was using told me that he wasn't happy with a lot of what he heard, however. At least not until after I'd finished and the room descended into silence.

"Mr. Calle," Danny said. "How bad is the situation for Renée?"

Shifting in his seat, Calle flipped through a few of the pages of notes he'd written before answering.

"Based on Miss Hebert's description of the sequence of events, I would say that a lot of the potential charges would depend on the PRT's willingness to pursue the infractions."

"What do you mean?" Danny asked. Shifting in my makeshift bed, I listened myself, curious to see where Calle's thoughts might differ from my own assessment.

"Cape law, Mr. Hebert, is not as cut and dry as it would be for regular people in similar situations," Calle explained. "Even today precedents are still being set depending on the individual cape in question, their actions, and the client's willingness to plea bargain. But I am confident that isn't what you meant with your question."

"To answer, based on Miss Hebert's statements, I could see the following charges being levied," Calle said. Shifting in his seat slightly while carefully going over the many notes he'd taken. Answering his questions, I hadn't noticed that his notes had quite reached the levels they were now, but they had, amazingly. "Assuming of course that evidence collected and witness statements could in fact be linked to Miss Hebert as being personally responsible for such."

"To start, grand theft auto, driving without a valid license, and reckless driving. Various violations of speed ordinances and such could be expected. Depending on if there were any accidents caused due to these charges, a subsequent series of further charges could be filed along side. Including but not limited to causing an accident, property damage, disregard to public safety ordinances, and the like. If anyone was injured then comparable charges would apply."

I nodded, half expecting it. I hadn't seen any collisions in my run, but I hadn't exactly been looking for them either. I guessed it was only a matter of time before something like this happened and I had run several red lights while cutting through a few intersections. Danny didn't seem to take the news as well however, and started paling as Calle continued.

"Destruction of private property, at least two counts for the collision at Lord's Elementary. Possibly three or more depending on how many vehicles were damaged during that time. A series of further charges related for doing so in a school parking lot as it was a willful act. Possibly more from the school ranging from willful endangerment of minors on up, should anyone have been hurt."

Wincing sent pain radiating through my injuries even as Danny's eye started twitching. Not my best idea, but time hadn't exactly been on my side to keep them from getting away with Dinah. Vista hadn't acted like anyone else had gotten hurt in the scuffle when we'd talked. Hopefully that meant none of the kids had gotten caught up in the mess. Unperturbed by his assessment, Calle flipped through a few more pages of notes.

"That brings us to the actual engagement. Physical assault and battery and battery with parahuman powers with the intent to cause harm. The actual charges and subset of charges for each person you assaulted would be filed separately as well depend on just how badly they were hurt. Let me see, you told me that you personally engaged nine men. That would mean nine sets of charges ranging from various counts of battery, aggravated battery, or manslaughter and murder charges if any of them died from their injuries. Again, the actual charges levied would depend on each individual you assaulted. From your own accounts several of them were possibly grievously hurt which will push those charges toward the upper end."

At Calle's thoughts on that subject, Danny moaned, lowering his head into his hands. I sighed, feeling the weight of my blanket even more than a moment ago. I'd never killed anyone before, trained myself to always be mindful of the possibility when I used my powers. I was very aware of how lucky I'd been in the years I'd been active that I could say that.

My care was helped by the fact I never engaged in fights like this before. Every engagement I'd been in prior happened after I manipulated the encounter to limit witnesses to place me there, damage to just what was necessary to achieve the aim, and most importantly, to keep civilians out of the line of fire while it was going on. Even my last round with Two Mauls, while not something I had a hand in setting up, was still within my ability to turn to my advantage.

The reason I was laid up at the moment, however, wasn't any of those things. As much as it grated on me, the whole thing was one mistake after another as I made a fool of myself through the city. When word got out I was involved it was going to ruin my image. Not to mention what this mess was doing to Danny and everything we'd been trying to build in the last few weeks. Just from what Calle had said so far, the best likely outcome I could see would be going open villain while trying to stay one step ahead of a Protectorate that wasn't interested in letting bygones be bygones.

"More property damage," Calle noted going over his last page of notes. "The car you damaged to stop them and the store you engaged two inside. The city might choose to levy charges based on if you are deemed responsible for any public property damaged in the course of events. And of course, the building that was leveled at the conclusion of the events. To be honest, I would need to consult with colleges back at the firm who are more specialized in such knowledge to make an accurate guess as to the total possible charges, but I believe that to be an accurate, if rough, basic layout of what you are facing."

"Christ," Danny muttered, head still in his hands after Calle finished talking. "You are _so_ much your mother's daughter."

Unsure how to take that considering Danny was currently face down into hands, I turned to Calle. The well dressed man appeared amused by Danny's reaction.

"You don't seem bothered by your own assessment," I noted.

"I've represented far worse, Miss Hebert," Calle answered, his smile no less amused at my question than Danny's reaction.

The scar across his face seemed to stand out even more than it had when I first met him.

"Mr. Hebert, would it be possible if I could have a private moment with my client?"

Looking up, Danny silently stared at Calle. His face was lined in worry, frustration, and a myriad of other emotions. After a moment of silence, Danny nodded turning to me. His soft smile didn't quite take away the worry, but showed that the frustration he felt wasn't directed at me.

After receiving a smile in return, Danny rose from his chair, leaving me alone with the lawyer.

"I'll go check on Kurt. Make sure he hasn't gotten bored on look out."

"I've represented a lot of super villains, Miss Hebert," Calle said once Danny had left. "I can count on one hand how many had parents show to their day in court. Half of which were a nightmare to deal with. One client in particular was most memorable. All the worst examples of a show-biz parent and the kid was a vandal and mass murderer. Such a toxic dynamic, but that's something you tend to expect with young sponsored villains whom enjoy that particular lifestyle."

"Alright," I said, not sure where he was going but slightly curious. "I am not sure how this applies to the situation."

"The dynamic you share with your father has been refreshing to interact with. It is… something. Hold on to it."

Danny _was_ full of surprises. Looking at the door he walked through, I couldn't help but think how my disappearance and amnesia must have affected him. I knew he wasn't particularly enamored of the lifestyle I'd come to enjoy, but he'd adjusted to it remarkably well considering. Not to mention judging by a few of his comments, Annette seemed to have led a rather… adventurous life herself. Those were stories he hadn't shared yet, but I was growing more and more curious about them.

Looking to Calle, I asked, "I know you are good at what you do, Mr. Calle, but how likely is it you can fix this?"

"You are worried that these events mark the end of your efforts to assimilate back into your old life?"

"I am worried about Danny and how this will effect him," I answered. "I never tried to hide my identity back in New Orleans. Not really. Honestly, I have spent more time as Gambit than Renée. Enough so that there isn't any real difference between my personas."

"A common occurrence from my experience," Calle noted. "Especially in cape's such as yourself."

"Amnesiacs?"

"Villains," Calle chuckled. "Though I've taken to calling capes like yourself 'Patrons of Fortune' actually. Has a rather nice ring to it, don't you think?"

My ribs responded to my own chuckle by letting me know they didn't particularly appreciate Calle's humor, even if I had.

"But psychology isn't my area of expertise, Miss Hebert," he said. "What are you trying to say?"

"I am a thief," I said slowly without a trace of shame. "And a good one. This life is all I've known, Mr. Calle, and I've dedicated a good portion of it to learning my craft."

Calle was quiet as I gathered my thoughts.

"The prospect of returning to that singular existence doesn't bother me. I know how to live that life. What does bother me is when my lifestyle affects civilians like Dinah and Danny. But the price is what it is, even if it isn't one we like to pay. If this situation cannot be fixed to prevent complications for Danny, then I need to know sooner rather than later."

Looking thoughtful, he leaned back in the chair. "There are many factors that are not yet known. How these factors prove out, will affect the final outcome greatly."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Some of those factors depend on what evidence stands against you. Even then, there are options available depending on your willingness to settle for a deal."

Looking directly at me, Calle continued, once again giving me his pearly white smile. "Not to sound immodest, Miss Hebert, but I am a very good lawyer. My firm has many specialists at its disposal, including our own investigators.

"If it is at all possible to negate the outcome of your recent adventure, I will find it. Failing that, I will endeavor to negotiate the best possible deal to your benefit that supports your interests. That includes protecting your father as much as I can from any and all legal repercussions."

 _XxX Gambit XxX_

Calle left after that, though I thought he spent some time talking to Danny before Kurt took him back to wherever he parked his car. His assurance that he could protect Danny actually helped, though I wasn't sure if he was patronizing me or if he could actually cash the chips he anted. I hoped so, but there wasn't anything I could personally do about any of it at the moment. As it was, talking with Calle was exhausting enough that when I fell asleep.

During the time I was awake I'd caught Danny sleeping in a chair across the room facing the bed. If he wasn't there and thought I was asleep he was hovering. Or he paced. Often mumbling quietly to himself unless Kurt was here to distract him. Sadly, Kurt wasn't here very often. That continued all through to the next day.

When I woke I found it easier to move on my own again. As long as I went slowly. My doing so sparked an argument between Danny and I when I tried to get him to go back to work. It was a given that I was stuck here, but Danny hadn't left once. Kurt brought our supplies and was acted as Danny's messenger with the world that existed outside the safe house. It was a situation that if it hadn't been noticed yet, was going to be very soon and that wasn't going to do either of us any good in the long run. Danny staying here like this was creating a massive, and very noticeable, change in pattern for the normally stalwart union leader. People were going to notice. When they did, they were going to talk. Once people started talking it was only a matter of time that the wrong kind of people would hear about it.

It was sweet, and as I tried to tell him more than once, appreciated but he was stubborn and wouldn't budge. To make matters worse, Calle's message, when it came, didn't give us much to work with. Only that he was looking into matters but as of yet had nothing definite. I apparently wasn't in the system yet. Not as Gambit, and not as Renée Hebert. Kurt brought a paper that had an article about Dinah's kidnapping. Page six but it was so vague that had I not been personally involved, I wouldn't have known it was the same event. I wasn't even mentioned in the article at all.

Even if we had a laptop reception was so bad inside the factory that I doubted we'd get a reliable signal anyway. Kurt had the only cell phone at the moment and to use it he had to try outside the building. Which was why I asked Kurt to check the PHO for information. Specifically the thread on Glory Girl and anything that might have related to me. What he brought back didn't shed any light on the situation. Glory Girls thread consisted mostly of people razing her while speculating that the whole thing was probably because the 'unknown girl' hit on her boyfriend. Thankfully, there was no video taken so at least it looked like I wouldn't have to deal with that going forward.

The thread dedicated to what happened in town didn't specifically name Dinah and was even lighter on details about what had actually happened. Mostly just speculation about why Gambit had suddenly taken to heroing. Which irked me, especially after talking to Calle, but I'd leave it alone for the moment. Kurt and Danny however thought my reaction to the news was hilarious.

Other than that, nothing concrete, just speculation.

Even by the fourth day of going to ground, there was _nothing_.

Which didn't make any sense at _all._ And when things didn't make sense, that could only mean one thing.

Rule 24. Plan for the worst, expect everything to go badly, and when pleasantly surprised when nothing does go wrong, wait for something weird to happen.

Between Calle and I, we had a good idea of what the worst was. I expected the situation to go that badly, and a bit worse to be honest. Yet, here I was four days into being surprised that nothing had happened yet. Which shouldn't have even been a consideration, considering. Worse to my mind, after everything that happened, if this was the nothing part, then what was going to be the _weird?_


	33. Devil in the Church: Chapter 7

**Devil in the Church: Chapter 7**

Moving the curtain aside, I looked out the window down the street. No vehicles that weren't supposed to be there, and if the red Prius was any indication, Ms. Lawson was back from her trip to Cancun. Hopefully, the last part of her vacation had gone better than the last week had for me. Looking down the other side didn't reveal any new additions to the street either.

After talking to Calle last night, I knew I was being overly paranoid, but it wasn't paranoia when people really were out to get you. Seems ever since I'd arrived in this city, my luck had been more geared to making enemies than friends. At the very least, I hadn't made the kind of friends I needed yet.

Not seeing anyone watching the house, I opened the back door and stepped on the porch. The sun hadn't yet started rising, but the sky was lightening. Streaks of purple and gold pushed back the dark skyline. I usually loved this time of day. A magical hour between when people were sleeping and all was quiet, and people rising to start their day. A peaceful time where I used to end my nights and just take some time for myself to think. More recently, I'd taken to running for the same reason.

But not today. While I wouldn't mind the time to think, I didn't even know where to start and running wasn't an option in my condition. At least I'd healed enough to walk on my own now. After the last few days spent chained to a bed, being able to walk without help was almost as good the music of my old home. Even if I was still a week or two from being able to work.

Opening the mailbox, I grabbed several days worth of mail that had accumulated while we'd been hiding. Neither of us had thought about it last night when we'd come home after Calle's assurances. Giving the empty street a final once-over for anything out of the ordinary, and finding nothing, I reentered the house.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I smiled my thanks to Danny when he placed a steaming cup of tea next to me. After a fortifying sip, I sorted the mail. Mostly stuff for Danny, bills and such, though there were two letters that weren't. Both from the same place. One for each of us.

"Calle was right," I said. "Letters from Arcadia, and they don't look like my assessment results."

"Hmmm," Danny hummed, setting eggs and sausage out. "Let's hope he's equally right about the other details he explained last night."

"I'll know for sure if I don't get foamed and arrested should someone recognizes me. Besides, enough is enough, Danny. We need the kind of information that people don't share with people like Calle. You can't live like this forever."

"I'm willing to try it."

"But is Lillian?" I asked, opening the letter and taking it from the envelope. "It's been days since you talked, much less seen her. She has to be worried."

"I had Kurt pass a message letting her know I was going to be very busy for a while. Besides, our situation doesn't have anything to do with Lillian."

"Doesn't it?" I asked. When Danny didn't reply, I continued. "Calle said that right now there isn't anything openly in the works. If it makes you feel better, as far as I could see there's nobody watching the house."

"It doesn't really."

"I don't blame you. With the right gear, I wouldn't notice anyone anyway. They could be watching the house using remote cameras or something."

"Wonderful thought to have our first morning back."

"Isn't it though?" I chuckled.

My letter proved that Calle was right. Inside was an apology from Glory Girl. Smiling bemused, I read through it. Other than my name, it read like a uniform letter that was probably scripted, and nothing like what I would have expected from the cape's personality. It also hadn't addressed what had happened between us, only that she was sorry for losing control of her power and it affecting me. Being hand written was a nice touch. I'd bet every stolen dollar in my hidden cubby that it was probably something she was made to do, than for any sense of guilt, despite the words on the page.

Danny placed a plate of eggs and sausages next to me before taking a seat at the table.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Danny said. Picking up the letter from Arcadia addressed to him, he opened it instead of eating. Sipping my tea, I waited as he read through it. When finished, he noticed my curiosity.

"Apologies from the school," he said dryly before continuing. "As well as assurances that Miss Dallon's actions will not be repeated."

"We'll see," I muttered, trading my cup for my fork. "I'm more worried about the lack of reaction from the Protectorate than New Wave's reaction to one of their heroes causing problems for me at Arcadia."

"Renee… I don't... " he sighed, clearly fumbling for the right words.

"I'm worrying you to death? You're getting more grey hairs than ever? You want me to be a normal girl and stop causing you such headaches? Am I warm?" I asked with a bleak smile.

He looked at me with a frustrated smile of his own, before sighing to himself inwardly. "Oh Annette, help me… your daughter has every bit of your cheekiness and then some. Renée…"

"Danny, I know what you're going to say. But if I'd known all of this would've happened in advance, I _still_ would've done the same thing."

"Well, do I even need to be here for this conversation then?"

"We could not have it and just enjoy a real breakfast that didn't come from a gas station."

"You're my _daughter!_ I… dammit, how can you be so calm about all of this!? You could have _died,_ Renée! I know you would've done it again. I know! I know and it kills me! Don't you see that?"

I flinched, stung by the sheer _hurt_ that his voice held. How long had he been holding this in while I'd healed?

"It... wasn't the first time that's happened," I returned, a little lamely, trying to play it off. "You should have seen what I looked like when I started learning to move by rooftop. Early puberty played hell with my balance."

"And how does that make this _better!?_ Renée, your whole future rests on an outcome, that as far as we know, will end up with you going to jail or worse. Doesn't any of that bother you?"

I paused, contemplating his words for a moment. It didn't, really, but I couldn't say that without hurting his feelings. Instead of answering, I asked, "Did I ever tell you about the first time I had eggs?"

Sighing, Danny shook his head. "Renée please don't just blow me off here. I'm trying to–!"

"It was a couple of days after I woke up in New Orleans," I interrupted. I took a moment to spear a small forkful of eggs, taking a bite. A bit bland, but after the last few days, good for being different than what I'd been living on.

"I had no idea where I was going and ended up pretty deep in the Lower Ninth Ward. That area had been devastated by the Slaughterhouse Nine a few weeks prior and was still reeling, like most of the city was. I'm sure you've heard of the kinds of things they do when they visit a place."

Danny flinched. Clearly he had. Then again, they'd been around for longer than I'd been alive in one form or another, so it really wasn't much of a surprise.

"Well, at that time there were lots of abandoned homes. Abandoned _people_ the Nine hadn't killed but maimed and were still holding on. More than a few driven mad that the Protectorate hadn't found. On top of that, there were still a lot of regular people desperately trying to survive in any way they could. The Lower Ninth always had a reputation for being a bad area, but after the Nine came through, it was worse. Even the Protectorate wouldn't go in there without backup. A lot of it."

Danny looked guilty of course. I was sure every word was making him feel like my experiences were all his fault.

"Of course, I didn't know any of that back then," I continued. "I didn't even have a name I could remember. I was living on instinct. Well, what instinct a little girl with no memory could have, anyway."

Danny's knuckles whitened as his hand tightened around his cup. I barely noticed half lost in one of my first memories. "I had just squeezed through this wooden fence to hide from a couple of guys. They hadn't seen me yet, and I wanted to keep it that way. I hadn't learned how to use my power on purpose yet, though I'd accidentally done so a couple of times and I'd already learned the hard way that large men who looked like they did meant trouble. "

Taking a drink of my cooling tea, I leaned back in the chair. Even sitting in Danny's house, I could still smell the grass and feel it on the skin of my legs. The desperate need to be quiet while trying to not panic at how loud my breathing was.

"A couple of chickens got spooked when they came too close," I continued. "I didn't even notice them until then. Thankfully they jumped the fence and bolted. The guys gave chase, laughing and throwing rocks. I stayed where I was until I couldn't hear them anymore. It was when I felt I could sneak away without them seeing me that I found it. A nest, complete with six eggs.

"It was like finding treasure," I whispered, turning from my tea to look directly at Danny. "In the two days of my existence I hadn't eaten anything more than a bite or two and I was terribly hungry. Every time I found something someone would show up and take it.

"The first day I ran from everyone who came after me, thankful they were more interested in the spoils than in me. But by the second the pains were too much. Too hungry to let the morsels I found be taken again, I tried fighting, for all the good it did. I was just beaten until I gave them up and it seemed like everyone was faster and stronger than I was."

"Oh, Renée." Danny's pain clear when he whispered my name.

"But, here were these eggs and no one knew about them. My hands were shaking so badly that when I picked up the first one, I dropped it. I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming and giving myself away. Thankfully it fell in the grass and the shell only cracked, not shattered. The clear liquid spilling from the crack didn't seem familiar, but it didn't matter. I ate it. Shell and all."

Picking up one of the sausages Danny made, I ignored his expression. "Spat out the shell almost immediately, losing half the egg with it. I drank the rest. Too hungry to care about the slimy consistency or the taste. All I cared about was eating every single one of them as quickly as I could before someone found me and took them away."

"I am so sorry you had to go through that, Renée," he sighed.

"I don't want your pity, Danny," I said firmly. "I never wanted anyone's pity. That isn't why I told you about that."

"Then why _are_ you telling me this?"

"So you understand," I answered. "I wasn't the only one with a story like that. Half the people who worked with me had a similar one. I don't think you fully understand what it meant for me to give that up to come here."

"I know I don't. I try but I…" He bit his tongue as if worried that saying the wrong words would keep me from telling my story. "Tell me? There's more to this, isn't there?"

"There is," I confirmed. "I didn't like a lot of the people I worked with, Danny. Most of them were career criminals long before I was born, much less arrived in the city. Add in cape gangs trying to dominate the underworld, or whatever piece of it they had a stake in, and it was safer for all concerned to simply keep to the shadows and skirt the line. That's what helped unite us. Marcus put a spotlight on the whole in trying to edge me out, but he wasn't the only one who thought I had too much influence."

"The implications of how easy it was for him to kill people were very worrying without the fact that homicides bring a lot of attention," Danny agreed. "You did the right thing. From what you told me the others had to have understood that as well."

"I'm sure there are those that did, but that doesn't change the fact I can never go back," I countered.

"What?" he asked, shocked.

Smiling sadly, I shrugged. "A message had to be sent across the board. A reminder of what the Guild represented, absolute unity or a return to desperate times."

Putting aside my fork, I got up to make a fresh cup of tea.

"Over time, some started forgetting our roots, pretended they'd always been who they were now. Some were getting greedy even before Marcus made his move. I'd been hearing rumors for months but didn't put the pieces together until right at the end. They wanted to be more. They wanted _territory_ , not hunting grounds. They wanted respect, to _be something,"_ I exaggerated. "Marcus just moved first, and just as Marcus betrayed our principles, I chose to break the rules to remind them all how fragile the Guild really was. Not just to what Marcus did, but what he wanted to do, and the likely results of such. So I did, and the cost of protecting them is that I will never be welcome back in New Orleans."

Danny sat quietly as I filled my cup with steaming water. Finished, I turned of the burner setting the kettle aside as I left my tea to seep.

"Why do you think you're so damn evil?" he asked.

"I don't think I'm evil, but one should never deceive themselves by saying they have no sin, Danny," I replied. "One of the first things Sister Mary taught us. I don't hide from mine, and we all eventually pay for the things we do."

"Saved little girls, and protected everyone you could? Helped keep people alive and provide for them until they could do it on their own? You see all that as bad?"

"Sounds nice when you put it like that, but to achieve those goals I've done things that are not so noble. You heard Calle the other day, and that was just one event. One very public event. I've gotten by in the past because there weren't witnesses, but a lot of people saw what happened, and that I was at the center of it."

"I love how big your heart is, kiddo, but that doesn't give you the right to choose what I do. Your bad experiences don't give you the right to dictate who gets in trouble with you."

"Sin should be a private thing, and I don't share the consequences of mine with anyone if I can help it. I know what I am, what I've done, and I'm comfortable with that. It's the life I chose, but this isn't the life _you_ chose. I'm not going to let you throw it away for me.

"You are a good _papa,_ Danny, but I am not a good daughter," I said, picking up my finished tea, taking a sip. The man reacted like I'd punched him in the gut.

"Regardless of what either of us want, the situation is what it is, and I want this dealt with sooner rather than later. So we know what we need to do to go forward. Normally when I go to ground, I stay there for weeks, or a month. But I don't have a crew to get the information we need to stay ahead of the repercussions. Just because the Protectorate isn't immediately coming after me, doesn't mean they won't."

Moving away from the counter, I walked away to get ready. Pausing next to him, I leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Regardless of everything, Danny, Brockton Bay is my home now. Not because I have nowhere else, but because you are here. Despite the cold, I like it. No matter what happens, that isn't going to change."

Danny didn't say anything as I left. Not because he didn't want to, but I suspected because he just didn't know what to say. He let out a long breath so filled with exasperation and desperate care that it told me more than any words could have.

After a quick shower, I got ready. Just the chest piece of my armor hidden under a hoodie should do it. My ribs could use the support. The hoodie hid most of it and it would take someone really looking to tell it was even there. No need to go looking confrontational, just in case Calle was right, but I'd taken enough risks walking around without some armor recently. Once finished, I sat in front of Annette's vanity.

It's surface was cluttered with just about every bit of makeup I owned. Looking at the bruises on my face I picked up a concealer to hide them. I might not be in any condition to get into another fight, but there was no need to advertise that fact. Besides, the less attention as I was hunting, the better.

Danny joined me about halfway through my efforts to look more human, and less like a piece of beaten meat. He stood at the door, leaning against the frame and watching me for a while. A curious look on his face like he was fondly remembering something unpleasant.

"What happens if it's a trap?" he eventually asked. "What if they're just waiting for you to surface before going after you?"

"Then I end up in custody and we see if Calle's reputation is worth the money I've been paying him," I answered.

"Do you think that will be enough?"

"I've been careful enough in the past and Calle seems confident enough."

"I still think…"

"We've been over this, Danny," I interrupted. Through the mirror, I watched as he seemed to sink into himself. "What's really on your mind?"

"I've been thinking," Danny said slowly. "More like remembering, actually."

"Well, that clears it up," I chuckled.

He eyed me. "You have absolutely no room to talk, Renée. You obfuscate better than anyone I know."

"You… might have a point," I acknowledged with a chuckle. "But there is a certain mystique to a gambler that is irresistible, no?"

Chuckling weakly at my joke, Danny continued staring at me with that strange expression. "I haven't told you much about Annette when she was going to college, have I?"

I shook my head. "Most of the stories were from after I was born."

"Your mother, well, you could say she fell in with a bad crowd," Danny sighed. "To be fair, it wasn't like that at first."

"Most things happen like that. By a bad crowd, do you mean Annette ran with a gang?"

"Something like that," Danny chuckled weakly. "It started off as an equality movement. Women's Rights and lesbian acceptance."

"That doesn't sound so bad," I noted. "Though kind of strange. Were those issues back then?"

"It wasn't the stone age, Renée," Danny said, rolling his eyes. "But even in the early nineties, there was still some discrimination. Noticeably bad in some places."

"Still doesn't sound that bad," I muttered. Then again, that kind of blatant discrimination hadn't been something I ever had to deal with.

"The movement was headed by a cape who called herself Lustrum. She made fanatical extremists seem reasonable."

"Ah. That would do it," I nodded. "Annette was a member?"

Chuckling self mockingly, Danny offered a weak smile. "Since not long after she started her masters courses. Annette met and started dating one of Lustrum's lieutenants. Her name was Claire. Eventually Annette became a minor lieutenant herself."

Staring at Danny through the mirror, I put the makeup in my hand down, spinning to look directly at him. "Alright, _mon'ami,_ you had my interest, but now you have my attention."

"I thought that might get it," Danny said, smiling. "They were very close. Even lived together for over a year. Claire didn't like Annette and I being friends, obviously, but tolerated me for your mother. Annette believed in the movement and even I supported it at first. However, over the years, it became less a movement, and more a gang."

"Hmm. Not often you see political movements going bad openly like that. Usually too many eyes on them…" I murmured.

"Started off innocently enough. Tracking down men who took advantage of women. Eventually setting traps in bars and parties for men who were known for getting women drunk or outright drugging them. Before long, some decided to take it further and started hunting them. Usually to a bad end for those they found, or believed were involved."

"Annette as well?" I asked. The parallels with the Guild were not lost on me, even with the differences that comprised our separate goals. Especially considering what we'd talked about in the kitchen.

"To a degree, yes, she was involved with a lot of what went on. Not the extreme end of it, but she was aware. She got out before things got truly bad, but it caused problems."

"Claire did not approve, I take it."

"No," Danny sighed. "The fight between them when Annette tried to get Claire to leave the gang with her was very… unpleasant. You see, Claire had gotten hurt in a PRT retaliation after a rather gruesome attack. The same attack that Annette later discovered was done out of hate than for the movement. Claire was very badly hurt, as a matter of fact. She couldn't even walk when I got to them. Claire wouldn't listen to Annette that she wanted them to quit because the movement had lost its way. Called your mother… many unpleasant things and blamed me for trying to steal Annette away."

"You loved Annette even then." I nodded quietly, curious about where he was going with this.

"Longer," Danny smiled sadly. "Almost since the first day we met. More than her beauty, which you thankfully inherited, Annette had a fire in her that was undeniable. A… physical presence that seemed to radiate her gentleness and warmth when she was happy. It was no less potent when she was upset. Unlike me, your mother never lost her temper, but when she was upset, you knew it. Her quiet disapproval was as cutting as one of my father's anger tantrums. But back then I was only her friend. A good friend, but only a friend."

"The kind of friend you call to get out of trouble?" I smirked.

"More than once," he confirmed. "I bailed Annette out of jail a handful of times. Small stuff usually, once when she led a protest that got out of hand. Almost cost her degree."

Walking into the room, Danny knelt next to me, taking my hands.

"Kiddo, you are your mother's daughter. So much so that it scares me. You have her conviction, her dedication, drive, and unfortunately her single minded stubbornness. Though I will admit some of that might have come from me."

I chuckled but didn't comment, letting him continue.

"You also have her way of looking at the world. I don't want you to think I am against the things you've done. If the truth was told, I have more than a few inappropriate stories about your mother and I and the trouble we got into back in those days."

"I would very much like to hear those stories," I smirked.

"Yes, I bet you would," he sighed, though his smile never left his face. "Renée, I watched Annette fall into that spiral. Watched as what she believed in was lost, becoming something unrecognizable from what it was in the beginning. Years later, Annette told me that despite all the people around her back then, she felt alone. Burdened by the things she had done and had to do to protect those she considered hers. I just want you to understand that you are not alone, Renée. You _don't_ have to face this alone."

"Maybe, Danny," I whispered. Touched by his words and expression. "But there is no reason why you should lose everything for dice I've thrown."

"No, Renée. There is nothing in this world more precious to me than you are. When you vanished I blamed myself for a long time. I swore that when I found you, I wouldn't make the same mistakes again."

"You said I was at some kind of camp when I disappeared. Whatever happened wasn't your fault, Danny."

"No, but all the months I spent lost inside myself after Annette died, was."

"What do you mean?"

"When Annette died, a part of me died with her," Danny whispered. "We had a stupid fight. Over the kind of minor thing that seemed like a big issue then, but was just stupid in hindsight. Annette left to see a friend because I was close to losing my temper."

"That's when the car crash happened?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I shut down, Renée. I didn't know how to deal with it, and in my pain, I forgot about you. You were suffering too and I didn't see it. Days bled into each other, becoming weeks, and months. I didn't take care of myself, and worse, I didn't take care of you. You spent a lot of time with Emma's family back then because I wasn't cooking or doing laundry regularly. It was… a dark time for us. Annette always enrolled you in summer camps because she felt it would broaden your horizons. I sent you there because I couldn't take care of you, and they would. Even if only for a little while."

I reached out, cupping the side of his face with my hand. "I don't blame you for what happened to me, Danny."

"And I don't blame you for the lifestyle you live because of what happened to you. Not in New Orleans and not here. I failed you once, Renée, I won't do it again."

It was funny, in a depressing way, now that I was looking at it. In the time we'd been living together, both of us had avoided subjects like my disappearance, and my life in New Orleans. Neither of us wanting to talk about such dark times or the things either of us lost. Now here we were throwing open those doors in an attempt to get the other to understand that each of us only wanted to protect the other.

The problem was that Danny couldn't protect me, and by the look in his eyes, he knew it. Not from the things that stood against us, and not from myself. While I might have had issues with the truth half the time, I always tried to avoid lying to myself. I tended to like exciting things, and half the time I took jobs for the challenge alone. On the other side of the coin, I couldn't protect Danny. Not from those same events surrounding us that I knew about and not from the things I didn't. It was obvious he wasn't going to let me, even if I knew how.

"I have to finish getting ready, Danny," I whispered.

"Alright, but promise me you'll be careful while looking around?" he whispered back.

"I will."

"Okay. I'll let you get back to it, but if anything happens, I'll be right here next to the phone. Just a call away."

I smiled weakly, blowing out the breath I'd been holding once Danny left. Turning around to once again face the mirror, I looked at my reflection and its sorry state, only partially covered up. After a moment, my eyes lowered to the tarot card I'd placed next to the mirror.

The World Reversed.

Picking it up, I still felt the tingling from within the card tickling at my mind. I'd made that reading weeks ago, and it was still active. I'd never had a reading last so long. I had thought that the subject of the reading would have already passed, but it hadn't.

Its placement suggested that I needed to take stock of things going on in my life. I thought I'd had, which was why I'd taken the chance to meet with Clockblocker, but with the card still active, maybe that wasn't all that was going on. The spread itself had shown five cards all in agreement with my thoughts at the time, and this one counter to it all. It signified significant change. Not as singular as the Fool typically would have; more broad, and should have meant something that surpassed the superficial and went deeper than the obvious.

But that was the problem with tarot reading. Even with the insight my power gave me into the cards, it was still so hard to understand. Or was the problem that the solution was so obvious, I couldn't see it?

Putting it back, I quietly mulled over that line of thought while finishing my makeup. Done, I was testing the overall effect with my hood up finding it satisfactory when it hit me.

Even with things like statute of limitations for how long they had to accuse me of things, they had control of the long game. I couldn't afford to wait years for the weird and see if I was going to get away with it. That was why I planned on going into the city, to get information so I could find away to deal with this. Looking at the tarot card against the vanity mirror, I realized there was one solution that covered all the issues I was facing, just as that card seemed to cover far more than one question.

It would be the biggest gamble I'd ever thrown my dice at. For that alone, the idea appealed to me.

Picking up my cell, I turned it on. Eventually, I was greeted with a list of missed calls, and one text message. All the calls came from the same unknown number but no voicemails. That made sense. Only one person even had this number and I doubted he was the voicemail type. Looking at the message confirmed my thoughts.

 _Hope you're okay. Little Sis said the party got pretty rough and we're worried about you. Call back and let us know you're alright please?_

Closing the message, I dialed a different number. It was picked up after the second ring, though no one immediately greeted me.

"Mr. Calle?"

"Ah, Miss Hebert, I thought that might have been you," the Latino man answered in his smooth voice. "How can I help you today?"

"I have an idea."

"Is this idea something legal, or is this call to prepare me for something more adventurous?"

"The other day you mentioned that parahuman law wasn't as cut and dry as most believe," I said instead of answering.

"True. There are many variables to account for, most of those centered around the infractions and the individual cape in question. In your case I have discovered several interesting aspects to your situation that should make for an amusing negotiation. I so rarely have access to such materials. I am quite looking forward to it."

"You're going in today?"

"Yes, my appointment is for this afternoon," he said sounding amused. "Did you have a particular avenue for me to investigate or inquire about?"

"Yeah, assuming it can be done with certain concerns in mind. I'm flexible, _mon cher,_ but on a few points, I will not bend. I can't afford to."

"You have my full attention, Miss Hebert."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

I looked away from the walls surrounding Arcadia for the screen of my phone again. Another update from Calle. I typed my response to his question before heading into the school just as the lunch bell rang. The crush of teen bodies worked perfectly to conceal the fact I was returning to the scene of a crime.

Biting my lip, I tried not to hiss every time I was jostled. Instead keeping my head down as I moved with the flow toward the cafeteria. Once inside I got in line, waited, got a lunch and paid for it with no one taking more than a cursory look before ignoring me as I'd hoped.

Looking around the cafeteria seating I didn't see him. Unless he was called into work that should mean he was in the quad. Entering it didn't take long to find Dennis sitting on the far side with two other people.

Taking a seat at an empty table, I watched while I ate and answered the occasional message from Calle. The dark haired girl sitting to his right sat quietly as she read from some novel I couldn't get a clear look at. On his left a decent looking guy was whispering something that made Dennis roll his eyes. Even the girl sharing the table seemed irritated. Eventually, he gave up and left, walking to a table a few down from me. A mostly full table that screamed 'popular clique'. Couldn't say I was surprised to see Glory Girl sitting there or the guy sit next to her.

Looking back to Dennis's table, I waited while eating my own lunch. After a few minutes of them sitting there quietly, I typed a quick text message, sending it to the number I'd noticed this morning.

Dennis lazily took out his cell phone a moment later. Half amused, I watched his body freeze for a second before looking around. It was obvious enough that it caught the attention of the girl reading next to him.

Obviously they didn't teach subtlety in the Wards.

A small discussion between them resulted in the girl rolling her eyes at whatever it was Dennis said. She got up emptying her tray into a trash can next to their table and left. Pocketing my apple, I did the same save for my drink before walking over. He was still absorbed in his text message when I sat across from him.

"Bonjour, Dennis," I greeted. "How have you been, _chérie?_ "

His head snapped up, wide eyed as he stared. Smirking, I reached over to steal one of his fries while his eyes moved taking in my appearance under the hood.

"Renée," the red haired teen eventually managed to whisper. As if my name snapped him out of whatever his thoughts were, he quickly looked around before leaning closer. "What are you doing here? Where are your contacts?"

"Lost them in a recent misadventure," I replied dryly. "Even if I had another set I couldn't wear them anyway until the swelling goes down."

Dennis's face fell as he peered more intently at me. "Oh man, how bad was it?"

"Bad enough that I'm glad Vista got away when she did," I answered honestly. "She's alright, yes? Didn't get into too much trouble for helping me?"

"She's fine, but we've been more worried about you. No one's heard anything for almost a week. How are you? Are you alright?"

"Well enough. I'm alive and free."

"That doesn't say much."

"It's an attainable goal, and I am not greedy."

"Maybe, but you look kinda bad."

"You should see the other guys," I smirked.

"I heard," Dennis snorted. "Should you even be walking around right now? You look like you went a couple of rounds with Lung. Just without the fire damage and death that usually comes with something like that."

"Such a sweet talker," I mumbled, stealing another of his fries. I wondered if he even noticed. He didn't seem to, and I was eating them right in front of him. "You really know how to make a girl feel pretty, _mon cher._ "

Seemingly embarrassed, Dennis tried verbally backpedaling while not tripping over his own tongue. The result of which was a sputter. "I'm serious."

"Your concern is touching, but I'm fine," I assured him, taking another fry. At this rate, I just might steal his lunch without him noticing. "Very sore and still a little broken, but fine."

Dennis looked over my shoulder for a moment, clearly not agreeing with me but thankfully let it drop. "What are you doing here? I thought, after what happened, you wouldn't come back."

"I got your message and thought I'd let you know I was alright."

"And Glory Girl?"

"Isn't the first to dislike me just because she can," I answered. "Besides, it's funny that she's sitting four tables behind me and has no clue I'm here, no?"

My comment finally got him to smile. Looking at his plate showed only a sole fry remained. I left it alone.

"Alright, that is kinda funny," he conceded before his face darkened slightly. "I am really sorry that happened at all."

"I don't blame you for it, Dennis. You didn't out me to her."

"Look, about that. I talked to him about it, and Vicky too. They promised it won't go any further. No one knows about what really happened but us."

"We'll see," I muttered uncaringly. "If things continue to go as projected then it won't be a concern for much longer anyway."

"That isn't cryptic," Dennis said wearily.

"It's going to be a surprise. For a lot of people."

"I don't suppose you could explain that?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" I asked, smirking. "Ignorance can be bliss, _mon'ami,_ and a man should leery of knowledge offered by a woman who knows more than he does. Such things haven't historically worked very well."

"Is that seriously a Garden of Eden reference?" Dennis chuckled, easily catching on to my meaning. "Trust a southern Catholic girl to bring up the subject of original sin."

"Oh? What other kind of _sin_ did the northern Christian yankee boy have in mind?"

Taking out the fruit I'd hidden in my pocket, my smile transformed into a smirk at Dennis's stunned expression. I felt entirely too pleased with myself at his wide eyed innocent look, mouth gaping at the obvious innuendo.

It became even more flustered when I took a large bite before holding it out to him. Dennis's eyes locked on my mouth when I licked the juice from my lower lip, asking, "Apple?"


	34. Gambling Time Interlude: Director

**Gambling Time Interlude: Director**

"Hello, Emily."

"James."

In the small window in the corner of her screen, her counterpart from the south smiled warmly.

Despite, or more likely because, she didn't offer one in return.

The rest of the monitor displayed the live stream that was of interest to both directors. A spartan conference room, one normally utilized for the types of meetings taking place. Three sat along one side. The man in an expensive looking business suit was doing most of the talking.

Of course she'd hired Calle. The smart ones who could afford it always did.

"If she is half as smart as you claim, she has to know this meeting is merely a formality," Emily said. "So why arrange it at all? Why come here, personally? What do you think her game actually is?"

"I honestly have no idea. She never came into my office with her lawyer before."

"Never?"

"Not once," James answered. "Avoided the building almost as much as she avoided my heroes. How good is her lawyer?"

"Quinn Calle is probably _the_ foremost authority on Parahuman Law in New Hampshire," Emily grudgingly admitted. "Charismatic, intelligent, and very knowledgeable. He's made a name for himself in that if there is a loophole his client can exploit, he knows about it or will find it."

"Sounds like the kind of lawyer she used here."

"Calle is also an amoral prick," Emily continued. "He will represent anyone who pays his fees and has in the past. Unfortunately for us, he's damn good at his job."

"Exactly like her old lawyer then," he chuckled. Both watched as the man smiled before launching into another long string of legal precedents. "I'm just as curious as you are, Emily, that she's here with him. When her lawyer came into our offices it was usually to question why we were looking for her or to assess if there were charges pending."

In front of Calle, was his PRT counterpart. Not quite at Calle's level, Emily grudgingly admitted, but a good man, and better than Henderson who'd originally been scheduled for this meet when it was arranged. Thankfully, Burkes didn't mind the quick summons when Calle walked in.

Next to him was Miss Militia. The dark haired and olive skinned woman sat easily, stars and stripes scarf and sash across her lower face and hips. The rest of her costume was a set of stylized and form fitting military fatigues, something that always irked the stern woman watching the meeting, reminding her slightly of those ridiculous old time pin ups that her father loved so much. The obvious sexualization at odds with what the uniform was meant to represent. But, that was costume design in a cape world for you, not that anyone asked her opinion on such matters, or listened when she gave it regardless.

Calle and Burkes verbally sparred over what they all knew were minor points while Miss Militia tried to engage Calle's client directly without much success. She hadn't actually said much at all, and nothing that wasn't probably pre-coached by her lawyer. Which begged the question, why was she here at all? A message that she wasn't afraid of the PRT? Rubbing the fact that what they had wouldn't win in a PR war if they pressed? What was the capes end game here? What was she hoping to achieve?

Seemingly sharing none of her concern at the situation, James asked, "It has been awhile since we last talked, hasn't it?"

"We talked last month when you called me, as you well know," Emily curtly answered. "And only a few months before that we met for the reunion, if you could call it that."

"True. Shame Tom couldn't join us. There's only three of us left now."

Emily chose not to voice her thoughts on the subject. As far as she was concerned, Calvert didn't deserve the right to remember the fallen with them after what he had done to save his own skin. Looking at the image of her New Orleans counterpart, she pushed down her own thoughts on the only other survivor of their old unit.

James might not have been there due to prior injuries but that didn't change the fact that other than her, he was the only other member of their old unit. They'd trained, fought, and bleed for each other numerous times before Ellisburg. Just sheer chance he had been on medical when the mission launched. In the years since, he had never failed to respect the memory of the men and women who had been lost. Most of the time, it seemed like they were the only one's who still did, or even cared.

"How've you been?" she asked, if only to change the topic.

"Knee acts up if I sit too long," he answered easily, leaning back to light a cigar. "Nothing new there. Never was the same after '04."

For the first time since the teleconference began, Emily's mouth twitched in amusement. "War's hell."

Puffing on his freshly lit cigar, James just smiled. On the screen, a thin man dressed in urban camouflage trousers and black sweater, his face hidden an equally black balaclava and a set of large aviator sunglasses, leaned toward Calle, whispering.

"Interesting," James muttered.

"How so?"

"During Gambit's last appearance in New Orleans it was noted she was in the company a new unknown. Informants called him, 'New Guy', which is all we have on him other than a general description. Tall, thin, presumably white, and doesn't talk much. When he did, people listened. When pushed, one informant said that New Guy seemed like the kind of man that just didn't know where the bodies were buried, but probably dug each hole himself. Was her shadow during that time. Theory was he was someone 'important' from Brockton Bay. A fixer of problems, you could say. What name did he give?"

"Minion."

"Are you serious?"

Turning to look directly into his eyes, Emily said, "Do I look like I am joking?"

"Well," James said, obviously trying not to grin. "Is it possible Minion might be from one of gangs in your city, or maybe a remnant of an old one?"

"Quite possible. Especially if he isn't parahuman. We don't have anything on him yet but I'll have someone reach out to BBPD and see if they have anything," Emily agreed. "How sure is the intel that New Guy is, in fact, a man?"

"What we have all agrees on that point. Why do you ask?"

"Because he's dressed like one of Lustrum's old lieutenants," she answered. "I might not have been Director back then, but Lustrums's gang was one of the first major victories for our branch after it was founded. Her people's look was was pretty well known. There is also the fact Lustrum hated men and her membership was entirely female. For a man to dress so, I'm sure you understand the implications."

"Now that is interesting. Sex change? No, far to drastic not to mention traceable. One moment, let me check something," James muttered. Emily turned to watch him go through a file on his desk. After several moments, he nodded. "I thought so. Has Adhoc showed up on your radar?"

"I'm not familiar with the name."

"Adhoc was a villain with a musketeer theme, but instead of swords used a long handled warhammer. We had reports Adhoc was friendly with Gambit around the time she first started calling herself that. Despite, I should add, that Adhoc ran with one of our heavies, Bayou Amos. It lasted for a few months before they had a falling out."

"What kind of falling out?"

"If there is any truth in the rumor, Adhoc got him drunk and left him passed out on Bourbon Street. In a bright pink dress, I might add, with more than a few crude drawings on his face."

Emily sighed. "And how does this apply to New Guy?"

Chuckling, James continued. "After that, Adhoc disappeared. Completely dropped off the radar. What makes it interesting is that we never could figure out if Adhoc was male or female. We assumed she due to the relationship with Amos, but Adhoc's costume changed after each encounter enough that we couldn't ever definitely declare one or the other. Could have gone either way. Actually had a betting pool on it until they disappeared."

Emily nodded. "We have a cape active here we have a similar issue with. Circus, I believe. First sighting was about a month before Gambit showed up the first time. Clown theme however. Very vulgar and disruptive if I remember the reports correctly. "

"Other than the costume, that matches. Vulgar and disruptive sums up Adhoc perfectly. "

"Were you able to get an age range?"

"We think between twenty and twenty-five," he answered not looking up from the file. "But that was two years ago and they were very good about making themselves look older, or younger. Pretty randomly according to these chronicled reports. One day, mid twenties adult. Next day, a teenager."

After checking the file on Circus, Emily nodded at the comparison. "Changer?"

"Nothing to suggest that. We think they're just really good at disguising themselves. You know as well as I that not everything has to do with superpowers."

"Well, that muddies the waters. Minion might be New Guy who also might be Adhoc and or Circus with ties dating back to Lustrum with past and current ties to Gambit. That isn't troubling at _all_."

"Possible, or they could be simply trolling you."

Turning away from the data on her second screen, Emily raised an eyebrow at James amused image. "Excuse me?"

"Just saying. It wouldn't be out of character for Adhoc. Or Gambit, actually now that I think about it. Both tend to find humor in just about any and everything. Gambit is especially known for not taking much seriously. I will say that when she does, that is the time to worry. As I'm sure you aware from recent events."

Looking back to the conference room, Emily silently agreed. As was typical of the young cape whenever she expected to be seen, Gambit was dressed in her light body armor and a new brown trench coat of similar make to the one recovered last week. Her expression was very different than the last time Emily had seen her.

" _Ma'am."_

 _Turning to her shadow, Emily frowned. This was her lunch hour and while she had to deal with them following her, she preferred to be alone at this time._

" _What is it, Benson?"_

 _Discreetly pointing to the figure on her bench, he said, "I believe that is the new cape Miss Militia and Battery reported the other day. I think it would be better if we moved to another pier. Just in case."_

 _Taking a second look, Emily nodded in confirmation. The figure definitely matched the description listed in the report as well as the more detailed one she received from James._

 _Except the Gambit sitting on her bench seemed deep in thought. Maybe even troubled. From here Emily couldn't see her distinctive eyes, but there was no hiding the fact that at this moment, Gambit looked as if her entire world had suddenly tilted off axis. At the moment she didn't look so much like a carefree gambler as much as a very troubled teenage girl who had just been given world-shaking news._

" _No," Emily said. "I don't think that will be necessary."_

Whatever the outcome had been for her troubles, she had obviously recovered. Gambit was currently balancing a pencil on her nose. Not lengthwise, as a normal person would if they had a mind for such behavior. No, on the lead so that it stood straight up. Before that, the room was treated to a game of solitaire. She only ever spoke when her lawyer addressed her, like at the moment. Even then, the pencil didn't so much as shift.

The less said about the currently-empty box of Girl Scout cookies Gambit had snacked on earlier, the better. Grudgingly, Emily made a note to herself to have someone look into the connection. This wasn't the first time it had come up and while highly unlikely, it was possible the organization could be used for villainous activities. Money laundering wasn't outside of probability, and the young girls wouldn't ever even know they were doing it.

"I can't help but admire Armsmaster's patience," James noted. "You know she's doing that to irritate him, don't you?"

"Obviously," she muttered. Almost as if she knew they were discussing her, Gambit's eyes moved from the pencil to directly at the camera recording the interview. Not the obvious main one, but the hidden camera that was focused directly on her. "Most likely because he's done nothing but stare at her the entire time."

Halberd in hand across his chest in a stance that was as almost as iconic to the man as the midnight blue power armor trimmed in silver which he wore. The only unarmored parts of his body stood in direct contrast to his partner. Instead of covering the lower half of his face, his helmet hid his eyes and the sides of his head, leaving only his nose and mouth exposed, though the latter was covered in a short cropped beard that dated back to his Ward days.

As the head of her Protectorate assets, it was his right to be there. The equipment he had somehow tinkered into that helmet of his was even more justification for his presence despite the fact Armsmaster was not the best suited for these types of interviews. Privately Emily thought Armsmaster was trying to rattle the younger cape with his quiet presence. A tactic that normally worked, but seemed to have little effect if the slight smile on Gambit's face was anything to go by.

"You are far too entertained by this, Director Simmons," Emily stated at the man's chuckle as he too watched the scene play out.

"And you worry too much, Lady," Simmons lazily returned, ignoring her point entirely. "But you always were one to see the worst in situations."

"Don't call me that."

"Taking a bullet for you should at least grant me the right to call you by your old field handle," James drawled. "Especially after all we went through together, back in the day."

Snorting, Emily said, "Tripping over your own feet and falling on me before getting shot is not the same as jumping in front of a bullet."

"So you say," he chuckled. "Though I remember it happening very different than the way you tell it."

"Which, I am sure, is a very self sacrificing story that doesn't end with you getting shot in the ass."

"My body was between you and that bullet. I see no reason to keep bringing up which part of me was actually hit."

Emily rolled her eyes at his mulish tone. Instead of commenting, she focused on the meeting. So far it had proceeded in a somewhat predictable manner. Mostly centered around the events of last week. Calle had obviously done his homework and was well prepared with both Minion and Gambit not giving their own lawyer much to work with.

In other words, Emily internally groused, the PRT didn't have a leg to stand on. For the myriad of crimes they could have charged Gambit for, every last one of them had been in the defense of an eleven year old girl who had been in the process of being kidnapped. True, the law was technically on their side, but there wasn't a jury in the state that was going to convict Gambit for her actions or the consequences of such. Especially with Calle's firm at the defence and the current direction the conversation was going. Too many factors, and some of those needed to stay off the books, were in the young capes favor without even considering the hero exemptions Calle had spent most of the meeting quoting.

Which was the true purpose of the meeting, Emily surmised. They couldn't press charges and seriously expect to win with what they had. Calle knew it, and obviously, so did Gambit. Instead of gloating over that fact, she just sat there and let it all get aired, putting them all on the same page. Almost as if they were dealing with a registered hero who made a mistake, instead of a closeted villain.

"What is your game?" Emily muttered as Gambit stopped balancing the pencil to look over the paperwork Calle handed her. Minion whispered advice as he too looked over the papers.

"Frustrating, isn't it?" James chuckled. "Honestly, half the time I think she really is as carefree as she presents herself to be. Of course, then she does something to make me wonder if it was all planned. Still curious how you managed to get her to come into the office."

"I didn't do anything," Emily stated firmly. "However, the scuttlebutt is she might be in a relationship with one of my Wards."

"Be serious." His comment was met with dead silence. "And _you_ allowed that to happen?"

"I wasn't involved," Emily denied. "Clockblocker disobeyed a direct order from my Deputy Director not to associate with Gambit and earned two weeks worth of console duty for his idiocy. A punishment I supported. That's all this department needs, a teenage Assault and Battery running around unchecked. Especially when _both_ of them think more like Assault."

Holding one hand to the camera to cut off James, Emily watched Armsmaster step toward the table. Seeing him, Gambit paused in her efforts.

"It should be noted that with registry, all associations will be scrutinized and any participation in illegal activities will be investigated thoroughly."

"Are you accusing my client of something, Armsmaster?" Calle smoothly inquired.

"It should be made clear that the Protectorate will not tolerate, nor condone, villainous actions. No matter the justification. Gambit has a history of such actions."

"Wha' you tryin' ta say, _cheri_? Cuz, it sound to me dat you sayin' Gambit can't be trusted."

"Trust is earned, but not the point I am making," Armsmaster answered. "You were witnessed attempting to steal a vehicle when Vista approached you. "

"I know somthin' bout wiring," Gambit smirked. "But, so don' you, eh? Is dat a crime now?"

"The ease with which you did so suggests it wasn't your first time."

"If'n you 'ave proof, den you do what ya need ta do, _mon'ami._ I didn't have to come 'ere, I chose to."

" _Do_ you have proof to back that allegation, Armsmaster?" Calle asked.

"I am not accusing anything, Mr. Calle. Merely making a point," the hero answered smoothly before turning to teenage cape. "Grand theft auto is not, under any circumstance, a legal heroic act, and Gambit has done so twice that we can prove, in one day."

"I never claimed ta be a 'ero. Just not ah villain."

Armsmaster grunted and even through the camera, Emily could see his lips twitch. "When you are finished, we will begin power assessment to complete registry."

"Sure, _cher_."

Once he walked out of the room, Emily opened the line to his helmet. "Well?"

" _Assault was right, she is unnervingly good at concealing her micro expressions. I think I might be able to recalibrate my lie detector to read her but I don't have enough data to go by yet."_

"Impressions?"

" _Confident, alert, and very perceptive,"_ Armsmaster dutifully reported. " _Judging by her eye movement she spotted all but one camera in the room. I expected reactions similar to other capes who have tried to play both sides, and found hers to be abnormal. On the surface, Gambit appears to be genuine."_

"But you don't trust her?" Emily asked.

" _I do not, though I am willing to admit that my judgment is not based on available data and more on the fact that we can't conclusively prove either guilt or innocence to past activities. My equipment doesn't work on her very well, and Gallant has reported his power doesn't work at all. I would surmise it is likely a result of her power. I recommend Stranger 1, or possibly Trump 1 rating for the effect."_

"Very well," she nodded, adding to her notes. "Anything else?"

" _One thing. Was the New Orleans branch aware Gambit doesn't leave fingerprints?"_

Listening, James blinked before shaking his head.

"I do not believe so. Are you sure?"

" _Yes, Ma'am. I ran the scan twice to be sure it wasn't a malfunction. I will check my equipment this afternoon to verify that it is in working order."_

"Very well. I look forward to your report on Gambit's power testing."

" _Was there anything else, Director?"_

"Just don't push too hard during testing, Armsmaster."

" _Director?"_

"Gambit volunteered to do it," Emily reminded him. "Until we know differently, let us assume the situation is as it looks. I'd rather not give Mr. Calle more ammunition to use against us than he already has. If he suspects we're using the tests to gather evidence against his client for suspected past crimes instead of assessment scores, the next meeting won't be as cordial."

" _Sensible, Director. Armsmaster out."_

Leaning back in his chair, James stared at her. It went long enough that it started grinding on Emily's nerves. "What?"

"You _like_ her."

"That's quite enough, James."

"Holy shit," James cursed. Leaning back, head slowly shaking. "Not a month up there and she's already made a friend of Lady."

Chuckling in the face of Emily's glare, James continued. "Maybe friend _is_ a stretch, but you do like her."

"Gambit has been nothing but trouble since she showed in my city," Emily denied curtly. "In the short time she's been here we've had several unexplained incidents leading up to last week's fiasco. Connect the dots for me, Director, and don't forget, I am in this mess specifically because you brought Gambit to my attention in the first place."

"I did. Tell me, Emily, in all the time you've held that office, hasn't something happened that you wished you could fix?" James asked, appearing older as he turned to watch the conference room.

"It comes with the job, as you well know."

"Maybe, but Gambit is one of my regrets," James sighed. "With one bad meeting, we lost her to the streets. True, she's not the only one we've failed, but imagine what she could have been had the situation played out differently. Had we been there when she needed us."

"You always were too soft for this line of work," Emily noted once she pulled herself from her reverie. "We are fighting in an arena where our opponents are bigger, smarter and stronger than we are. They take what they want, uncaring of the collateral or the suffering left in their wake. Our job isn't to save _them_ , James, but to safeguard everyone else _from_ them. You would do well to remember that."

"Does that apply to our own people in the Protectorate?"

"Yes it does."

"That's a rather hard line, Em."

"It's called doing my job," she said shortly. "Might want to try it sometimes, James, instead of worrying about the past."

"You know as well as I do that half of our job is politics while the rest is coordination for A and S class threats. It also doesn't explain why you are taking such an intense interest in this cape. That's not like you, Emily, and I know you're not doing it just because I asked."

"Less of them means more of us," she answered. Turning to Calle, Gambit listened to whatever it was being whispered. Rising from the seat, she followed Miss Militia out the door with Minion following close behind. "If handled properly, I might be able to prevent her from joining the Empire, or god forbid, the Merchants."

"I don't think that was ever in the cards, Emily," James muttered. "The Empire's entire philosophy stands against most of what Gambit believes in. As for the Merchants, while we suspected Gambit of many things, drug running and distribution never made the list."

"Maybe not, but the amount of transgressions that have made the list, is of concern."

"Just," James started to say before sighing. "Just remember, Emily, Gambit isn't evil."

"Nor is she a hero."

"Not in any conventional sense, no, and she'd be the first to say so. She's as likely to cross boundaries as she is to do anything. Sees the world very differently than most of us do, and definitely differently than most parahumans. But, she could be a great one, if properly guided."

"Your branche's psychological profile of her paints a very different, and troubling, picture. So, your point, James?"

"My point is that it's so… outside the norm for a parahuman of Gambit's abilities to be as non-confrontational as she is. Don't let what happened keep blinding you to the fact that despite their abilities, these are people we're dealing with, and I think if you get to know her, you'll find Gambit can be good people. She has a… code about her. One I think even you would respect."

"I am well aware of my own prejudices," Emily said, though not as harshly. "Something I take into account when dealing with them but that doesn't change the fact that parahumans are ticking time bombs just waiting to go off. Despite what you think, Gambit is no exception. You've heard of Marquis?"

"Vaguely," James answered. "Tough cape, if I remember right. Controlled quite a bit of the underworld in your city for a while. Birdcaged quite a some time ago, right?"

"Even today there are those who speak of him reverently. Charismatic, civil, and earnest in his convictions and beliefs. Truly had an ear for the common man in the city. Marquis liked to help people, and did so regularly. There are those who still remember what he did for them. He had a code about him too, James. Back then, Marquis held his own against Empire Eighty Eight, Merchants, the Teeth, Lustrum, and more than a few wishful rising stars practically single-handedly.

"Yet I have reports in my archives that show the other side. Scores of murders, dozens of arsons, and tracking data for more sales of illegal drugs and weapons than you would believe. That doesn't include the multitude of softer charges ranging from bribery to witness and evidence tampering. With the capes already here right now, I'm sitting on a powder keg. I doubt this city will survive the rise of another Marquis."

"I don't think you have to worry about that being an issue, Emily."

"And why do you think that?"

"Two reasons," he answered. "I'm sure you're aware of the string of recent wins local PD here has had lately."

She nodded, narrowing her eyes as James continued. "Something held back from the report was that the anonymous donation of information I received wasn't from an anonymous source. Gambit burned her own organization down."

"That doesn't make sense. Did she tell you why?"

"In her own way. While she was in Brockton Bay, her people did a job without her and two security guards were killed during the heist," James explained. "Whatever she learned when she got back had her contacting me. While it is all speculation about their relationship to Gambit, I can tell you she was… offended by what happened. I doubt Marquis would have done something like that."

"I doubt that as well," Emily nodded, adding the tidbit to her own observations about the cape before asking, "Why didn't you report it?"

"It would have tarnished the validity of the information," James answered. "I also didn't want her involvement getting leaked and having the fallout follow her up north. Seemed a poor way to repay her."

"I see," Emily said. "The other reason?"

"I doubt that Gambit could be serious for long enough to actually pull off a Marquis like empire. To be quite blunt Emily, unless something truly life changing happened, I just don't think Gambit has enough fucks to give to take the job even if it was offered."


	35. Gambling Time: Chapter 1

**Gambling Time: Chapter One**

The familiar street Danny's house was on was a welcome sight after everything. Today marked the longest I'd been in such heroic company without someone trying to arrest me. It turned out to be an interesting experience. Interesting, but exhausting. There didn't seem to be any end to Miss Militia's questions or attempts to 'get to know me'. It would have been a nice change from how heroes usually treated me, if I didn't know they were using the opportunity to fish for information.

Not that I blamed her, she was just doing her job. In contrast, dealing with Armsmaster was easier. He just stared; not trying to hide the fact he was suspicious. Probably with every bit of whatever magic tinkertech equipment he had trained on me. It's what I would have done in his place and in the end; heroes were no different than any other parahuman gang I'd dealt with. No matter what side you were on, information was the key to survival.

Reaching into my coat, I pulled a piece of paper free. Looking over the names, times, and coded areas associated. Behind the wheel, Danny continued driving no longer wearing his Minion costume. While the reactions to it were hilarious, I had to admit I was very curious as to the story behind it.

"What did you and Miss Militia talk about while I was in the bathroom?" I asked.

"She was curious about my outfit," Danny answered. His amusement was clear in his voice as he continued. "Apparently, I resembled a henchmen look from some years ago. She wanted to know if I was aware of it."

"And what did you say?"

"That I was and that it was nice to have an excuse to wear it again."

"I imagine that got her attention."

"It seemed to, yes," Danny chuckled.

"Mine as well," I said leadingly.

Seeming a bit embarrassed, Danny sighed. "I mentioned that Annette ran with a gang once."

Looking up from the paper, I gave him my attention.

"During that time Annette called me more than once for help. Bail money, a change of clothes, or to pick her and her associates up. Sometimes to hide them for a while or help establish alibis. Just in case."

"And you did it?" I couldn't help but ask. Danny was the proverbial straight arrow. It was a little strange to hear there was a time he wasn't.

"Annette was very hard to say no to," he muttered fondly. "After the first few times, she started joking that I was her minion and it became a nick name of sorts. When the group started getting more radical some of her associates took exception to me helping or being around when she needed me. That was when she put together that outfit and actually started publicly calling me Minion. It amused your mother greatly that I was the only man in an all female gang."

Something about the way he was talking made me think Annette wasn't the only one amused. Shaking my head I looked back to the paper I'd acquired inside the PRT building. Hopefully Danny wouldn't be remiss in telling more stories from those times later.

"Is that something from Calle?"

"No," I answered, putting it back in my coat. "It's this week's patrol schedule for the Wards."

"You stole the Wards patrol schedule."

"Yeah."

"How?" Danny asked.

"It was actually tougher to find one than I thought it would be," I chuckled. "They seem to have had problems with people climbing through the ducts before. Took a bit get through and sneak into their break area."

"When did you," shaking his head, Danny sighed. "You know what, I don't really want to know. I do want to know why."

"Just curious when and where they were going to be this week."

"To meet with them?"

"To avoid them, actually," I clarified, watching the city pass through the window. "Aside from maybe Vista and Clockblocker, I don't think they like me very much. Probably best to avoid a cape fight with them. Things are going to be hard enough as it is. Danny, are you sure about..."

"I am," he assured.

Sighing, Danny pulled into the driveway. Sitting at the curb was an unexpected surprise, Lillian's little coup. Shutting off the engine, Danny turned to me. A strange mix of pain and pride in his smile.

"You are my daughter," he continued. "Your mother and I may have named you Taylor, but you, Renée, _are_ our daughter. I know that for you, that is more an abstract definition because you don't remember us. It's made things difficult for both of us in the last month as we've tried to understand who the other person is and how we will make this situation work."

Danny didn't seem finished, so I waited while he ordered his thoughts.

"It's been an adjustment, for both of us," he said, eyes staring blankly at the house. "But, it's been harder on you, I think. From what I have gathered and what you've told me, for a long time all you have known was basic survival. Food, water, shelter, protection. Jess, the gang you ran with, and then the gang you ran. But survival isn't living."

"That was why I formed the Guild," I said. Still not quite seeing where this was going. "I wasn't the only one in that situation.

Danny nodded. His smile seemed more lively. "That is my point. You knew then that it wasn't enough, that there was more to life than just existing. You grew beyond the boundaries imposed on you, and you thrived."

"I was lucky. It wouldn't have worked if the others hadn't agreed to work together. Without the other leaders, things wouldn't have gone nearly as well, or as far."

"True."

"Where are you going with this, Danny?" I asked.

"Just that all of that defined you," he answered. "Since we've reconnected, you've been trying to be something else. Someone else, and it isn't working."

"Danny?"

"Some years ago other parahumans tried this. Back then they were called the Brockton Bay Brigade. The transition to New Wave wasn't seamless, nor without cost. There was some discrimination, a bit of freak out, but the real tragedy was when one of them died. Instead of being a movement for parahuman acceptance, it served as a lesson why being a cape means leading a double life. Even the Protectorate keeps confidentiality of parahumans they capture or know the true identities of. I won't lie to you, Renée. I'm worried."

"There are other ways we could have done this for the same results," I pointed out. "If it bothers you so much, why did you suggest it?"

"Because my daughter is a parahuman and I want her to be happy. Trying to be anyone but who you are, isn't going to make you happy," he sighed. That strange smile came back when he turned to me. "If the last few years have taught me anything, it is that there isn't anything I won't do for you. I… don't think I could handle losing you again, but I am not going to let that fear control me, or keep you from being happy."

"I am not unhappy, Danny," I assured him. "This wasn't necessary."

"The benefits of experience," he said. "Or being an old man, is that we tend to see things you don't. And I am not so old that I don't remember what being a teenager was like. Renée, you've never hidden who and what you are before."

"I never really had the option to."

"True, but this goes back to what I was saying before. This is who you are and hiding it isn't something you are use to, much less like. Living, really living, is about choices, and consequences in pursuit of your goals. It doesn't matter that a lack of options forced you on the path, you chose to own it. So, it's time I accepted that before..."

Chuckling sadly, Danny shook his head. "If I had my way, I'd bundle you up and hide you away from the madness of this city. The cape life. Find a way to keep you from doing the things you've had to do to survive the last few years. But, that would push you away. You wouldn't be happy, and in the end, I'd lose you all over again. So, if that isn't going to work, then we need to focus on something that will. Which is a nice lead in for the surprise I set up for you."

Gambit didn't cry, but right now, I was close to it. This… I didn't know what to do with this. I would be lying if I said I hadn't come to similar conclusions, but I was still willing to push forward. The last month living here in Brockton Bay, with Danny, filled a hole in me that I didn't know I had. But, it didn't fill all of it. Being just Renée wasn't enough. To… static. I never was one to who enjoyed sitting idle. That Danny got it, _understood_ , was almost too much.

Not really comfortable or knowing what to do with this, I cleared my throat, asking, "Surprise?"

In answer, he turned toward the house again. Following his gaze, I looked at the kitchen window seeing a very familiar face smirking at me.

"You didn't," I half asked, quickly turning to Danny.

"Surprise," he chuckled. "Go ahead. I'm sure they're just as excited to see you."

Opening the back door, I was hit with several familiar scents; all coming from the stove. Jambalaya with andouille, red beans, rice, even a crawfish boil merrily bubbling away in a large pot, and if that wasn't bread pudding in the oven, I'd give up thievery.

If that wasn't enough to make me think 'home', seeing Penny next to the stove sold it.

"I was wondering how long you guys were going to sit out there and talk," she said. "Dinner's almost done."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, welcoming the hug from the older blond.

"It's been ages since you had real food so we decided to fix that," Penny answered. Despite her joking tone her eyes moved over me, obviously looking for damage that wasn't visible.

"We?"

" _Ma chère."_ Turning revealed Sam walking in from the living room. A smile on his face with his arms wide.

Laughing, I hugged him. Over his shoulder I saw his girlfriend Katie watching. Like Penny and Sam, she was smiling. Looking around I couldn't help but asking again, "What are you guys doing here?"

Sam rolled his eyes, making room for Katie. "Seriously, you get into a big fight that has Danny calling Penny because you're hurt, and you think we're just going to stay south and do nothing?

"Honestly," Penny added, "we would have been here sooner, but Danny called back saying he found you and that you had the situation in hand. Something about flooding this place in thieves might have messed up whatever it was you had going."

"Still think I should have brought a crew. I know several who'd make the trip, just to even the score," Sam said. "Find this guy and teach him some humility. Bet he's got some good loot. No sense in him keeping it all to himself. People are hungry."

"And if you think I'm letting this idiot run off without me," Katie added with an eye roll of her own. "Then you're mistaken. Not after him and Pedro closed the Rum House."

" _Ma belle?"_ Sam asked playing at being wounded.

"You know I'm right. I put too much work into you to risk losing you to whatever misadventure you'd get yourself into without adult supervision."

I couldn't help but laugh at Sam's pout.

Smiling with a bemused expression on her face, Lillian walked toward Danny. I didn't even notice she was standing there, or that Danny had followed me in. "Can you under anything they're saying?"

"Only every other word," he chuckled. "The english ones, anyway. It might be best if we don't know. From what Penny has told me, anything involving 'Pedro' is not a topic that we want details on."

"You'll get used to it," Penny said, eyes dancing and she tried to keep in her laughter. "It isn't that hard to understand once you accept that it's one of the thickest accent's for outsiders of New Orleans in all of america. It's kind of like Scottish, and hillbilly, and french, all glued together with hot peppers. But sometimes sounds like it's coming from underwater, and smooth enough to make you completely forget where you left your pants, which is certainly in a different place than your keys or wallet."

"How long are you here for," I asked. We were _so_ hitting Palanquin and as many of the nightlife hot spots as we could before they left.

"You didn't tell her?" Penny asked Danny.

"Didn't have a chance to," he answered.

"Tell me what?"

"We're here to stay," Sam said, nodding.

"What?" I asked before my eyes landed back on the stove. It was then I noticed that the pots weren't Danny's. More than the fact Danny didn't own half the pots necessary to cook the kinds of things Penny was, I recognized them all as being part of her collection. Several of which I stole for her myself last year when she was moaning about not having the right things to cook the dishes she wanted to try. Also in the living room were several boxes, and more than a few bags replacing Danny's usual clutter.

"But, the Guild?" I half asked before turning to Penny. "Langlois Culinary? You guys love New Orleans."

"It hasn't been the same since you left," Sam said. "Marcus had insurance against getting pinched. Got broke out not long after."

Katie nodded while Sam shrugged at my concerned look. "You know how things were before, Renée. People set aside old grudges to unite, but old wounds fester. Marcus knew that. Used it to get some to follow him."

"The old timers know why you did what you did," Katie added. "There was talk about how much they respected that you practiced what you preached. That you took the hit for the whole, but not everyone was happy with how things were."

"That isn't what I wanted," I said. "That isn't what was supposed to happen."

"No, but Marcus, you know?" Sam said. "He showed up to the last meeting of the leadership. Talking pretty about opportunities and that now that you were gone, we shouldn't limit ourselves to just stealing. Big talk about real money and taking things to the next level. Some liked it, some didn't."

"What happened?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"Some groups joined with Marcus. Those who were having a hard time earning the right way. Thugs mostly, but a few good ones left. So he's got his own thing going now. Was bad for a couple of weeks. Territory dispute kind of stuff as the balance shifted with neither side willing to give ground."

"How bad was it?"

"People got hurt both sides, some died," Sam answered. "From our group, we lost Carlos. A few others got hurt when we retaliated and got payback. Lost Victor then. Went out like a boss from what I heard. John ended up in the hospital."

Closing my eyes, I sighed. Carlos and Victor were hot heads, always prone to leaping before thinking, but decent people once you got to know them. John wasn't exactly level headed either, but he was one of the best pick pockets I'd ever seen. Hopefully whatever happened wasn't permanent. "What was PD's response? Did the Protectorate get involved?"

Katie shook her head. "Without any capes, the Protectorate called it a local police matter and neither side went loud. A lot of what happened, happened in the shadows."

"Pretty much. Both sides cleaned up after where we could, don't think five-o figured out much about what was really going on," Sam agreed. "Things didn't simmer down until we started hitting Marcus where it hurt, his pocket. His people might be more willing to kill than we are, but there's a reason why you don't mess with people who can stripe a bank vault in ten minutes without leaving a trail. Last week Marcus called for a truce. Probably finally figured out that he wouldn't be able to float his own operation for much longer if things kept going. What we took, we moved fast."

"There was a meet," Sam continued. "Marcus and the leadership. They divided up the city with an understanding that if either side crossed the line, they were fair game."

"Where is Marcus now?" I asked. This wouldn't have happened if I'd just left things be. If I found and took him out…

"Easy, _chérie,_ " Sam cautioned, knowing exactly where my mind was. "That isn't a good idea."

"Why not? This is my mess. If I hadn't been with Marcus in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"Because that was part of the price for peace," Katie said.

Sam nodded sadly. "Yeah. Marcus must have figured that you'd gun for him when you found out. He made a point that if you came back, for any reason, he'd consider it a deal breaker, and that the Guild wanted a war. You go back, and both sides will be out for you. Sorry _chérie_ , but it was the only way to settle things."

Sighing in frustration, I nodded; already considering other options. As much as I wanted to handle this myself, it would cause more problems than I'd already created. But, there was one answer that didn't involve me going personally, assuming Jess was right. Just needed an in and a payday to front the idea.

"Sam," I said, putting that line of thinking aside for now until I figured out the details. "If things settled down, why would you guys move up here?"

"Like I said, it's not the same without you," he answered. "After shit went down, Katie and I talked about things, decided we needed a change. When Danny called, we thought we'd check it out. The least we could do is consider his offer."

Standing next to Sam, Katie nodded along. "It's not everyday you get a legit offer with good pay with real benefits. Especially since our verifiable work history isn't what you would call steady."

Turning to Danny in surprise, I raised an eyebrow.

"They're not the first ones to work for me with a questionable past. Most of us at the 201st have come from similar backgrounds," Danny answered the silent question. "The downsides of living in a city with a history like ours and if there is anything the 201st understands, it's second chances. It will be hard, but honest, work. So long as they keep their hobbies off my job sites and away from the 201st, they're welcome to it.

"Besides, Renée, I told you there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you, and with everything going on, you need people familiar with the kinds of things you do. More importantly, you need people you can trust to back you up when you need it. Just in case something happens again. If it does, I don't want you alone out there."

Sam nodded sharply, completely in line with Danny's statement. Next to him, Katie likewise nodded. Penny was smiling when I turned to her asking, "What about Langlois Culinary? Penny, you've wanted something like that for years."

"I still want to be a chef," Penny agreed. "And I will be one. I don't need someone else's approval. I'll find a way to do it here just the same as doing it back home and who knows? There might be a market up here for authentic cajun cuisine, and it isn't like I can't earn in Brockton Bay the same way I did in New Orleans.

"Besides, Amos is practically in open warfare with the Kree. It's gotten so bad he's started sending Whiplash around to collect the rents. Doesn't matter what day it is or how much longer you have until it's due, she's made it a point that you better have it when she shows up or bad things happen to you. She beat up the couple across from us pretty badly and trashed their place last week. I'm not risking my pots to her temper."

"Guys…" I tried to say before Sam interrupted me.

"Hey, enough of this feelings stuff," he grunted. "I've been smelling Penny's cooking for half the day. Let's eat finally, eh?"

Katie rolled her eyes, smacking Sam in the back of his head before walking over to help a laughing Penny. Shaking his head, Danny headed to the cabinets taking the playful ribbing from Penny when she noticed his dinner ware. Danny's kitchen wasn't exactly spacious, which left Lillian and I near the table.

Her expression as she took in the chaos around us seemed amused, but in her eyes I could tell she understood more of the conversation than her earlier comment might have hinted at. I assumed Danny had mentioned a few things about me, but until now I wasn't sure how much he'd shared. When Lillian turned meeting my eyes, I raised my eyebrow.

She met my black eyes unflinchingly, smiling warmly, which told me all I needed to know. Lillian understood that all of us had a bit of a checkered past and it didn't seem to bother her. No judgments, no condemnation, just acceptance.

"Why?" I asked, unable to blindly accept the implication.

"Everyone has a history," Lillian answered softly. "And being a student of history, I can tell you it's often very different, and darker, than what most commonly believe. While knowing doesn't change that history, it does change how it is understood."

"But that doesn't explain why you're so accepting of me, of my friends. You have to realize what kind of people we are."

"I believe I understand quite well," she said. "And maybe, one day, when we get to know each other better, I'll share my own reasons for that acceptance. For now, all I can tell you is that I care a great deal about your father and until either of you give me a reason not to, I'll keep your secrets."

"Just like that?" I asked not willing to believe it was just that easy.

"Just like that," Lillian said. Her warm smile telling me she understood my concern. "I know we haven't had a lot of time to get to know each other, but whether you believe it or not, that also means I care a great deal about you as well, Renée. While Danny is a person of many faults, something the two of you share, the day you found each other was a turning point for him. For you too, I think?"

"Yeah," I agreed, turning to the man in question.

"Alright everyone," Danny said. "I know things are going to be a bit tight in here, but let's all sit down and enjoy Penny's efforts. At least until our stomachs revolt from the spice infusion."

"Lightweight," Sam said, holding out Katie's chair.

"After a month of my cooking you'll barely even taste it, Danny," Penny commented, taking the seat Danny offered.

"Assuming I survive that long," he grumbled, moving to hold out Lillian's chair while Sam did the same for me. "I'm still sweating from the last time I ate your cooking."

Rolling my eyes at their antics, I sat with everyone else. Questions and feelings pushed to the side for the moment as I enjoyed the fact I was with my friends again.

"A little spice in your diet isn't going to hurt you," Lillian noted, eyes dancing Danny sat next to her.

"Remember you said that after dinner. Very few things Penny's cooked can be called easy to digest. Weaponized maybe," he playfully returned.

"Hey!" Penny laughed while helping Lillian get some of the boil.

"So, since we got all that out of the way, Danny mentioned something about a guy that caught your eye," Sam said while helping himself to the jambalaya. "Something about him hitting on you when you was out with a friend. This, I need to know about."

"You don't _need_ to know anything," I said, pointing my spoon at him. "Not that there is anything to talk about. He's good people and we only hung out once. We are not having a repeat of when I tried seeing Shane."

"Wait, I have a question that's been on my mind longer than Renée's mystery guy," Penny interrupted, thankfully forcing Sam to close his mouth. The last thing I wanted to talk about was either Shane or Clockblocker.

"This should be good," Katie chuckled, passing the red beans to Sam.

"It's an important question. Actually been on my mind since I met Danny and there's finally someone I can ask to get answers," Penny said, turning to Lillian.

"Alright," Lillian slowly said. "I'm not sure I actually can answer, but go ahead."

"I have to know," Penny continued, a predatory look in her eyes. "Just how limber _is_ Danny?"

Danny choked on his water. Trying to hide my own blush behind my hands, I shouted, " _Penny!"_

"What? It's a perfectly appropriate question."


	36. Gambling Time: Chapter 2

**Gambling Time: Chapter Two**

The familiar buzzing of the alarm chimed away. Reaching over to turn it off proved to be slightly more difficult due to the extra body in the bed. Opening my eyes revealed Penny half-wrapped around me, cutting me off from the nightstand. Not so much as a twitch to show she heard, much less cared, that the alarm was going off.

And the Cuddles Bandit strikes again.

Shaking my head, I reached over her and turned off the alarm. Getting out of the bed proved to be just as much an endeavor as I remembered. While Penny slept like the dead, she had hands like a swamp snake trying to hold on to it's next meal. Always wandering, reaching, or grabbing, and anything that moved, got squeezed.

Took a bit to get my pillow in place and for her arms to grab it, instead of me. Decoys were a valid – and sometimes the only viable - tactic. Once Penny had something that wasn't going anywhere, she stilled, a soft contented sigh escaping as she settled back in. My freedom assured, I quickly adjusted the blanket to make sure she was fully covered before grabbing my running clothes and heading to the bathroom. The early morning chills following me like a stalker.

I could still smell last night's dinner in the air when I looked over the railing. Sam and Katie were in the couch bed. The armchair was folded out and looked like it had been made for someone, presumably Penny, to sleep on. Seeing some of the escaped clothes from the occupants of the couch bed, and considering where the armchair was, it wasn't hard to put the pieces together on why I had a night time visitor.

Sam's stereo was even still playing one of the CD's he made for me. Low but familiar spirited Jazz and Blues from live recordings taken from Frenchmen Street filled the air, mingling with last nights dinner. Danny and Lillian left before it got too late, not being the night owls we were, but eventually even I was done. Not so for them. I wasn't very sure when they called it a night, but hopefully Sam and Katie didn't keep Danny and Lillian up too late. This wasn't one of our old flophouses where this kind of thing was typical.

Last night's dinner and late night probably sounded like a madhouse to the neighbors, but no one called us in and Danny didn't come get me to make them stop afterward, so maybe everything was fine. Resolving to deal it, if there was something to deal with, later I attended to my morning necessities while the letting the hot water warm up.

No stranger to a full schedule, I mentally went over everything, sorting it all and putting it all into usable perspective while adjusting for unexpected additions. Especially considering today was supposed to be my first actual day of high school. Or, school period.

I'd gotten back my testing results in the mail. Unsurprisingly, math was decent, I assumed since they've put me in mainline classes to finish the year. History and English as well; although I had an extra remedial course late in the day. Amusingly, I pretty much flunked all the sciences. No practical value in knowing the composition of cells, or who contributed to this or that discovery. It hadn't been something I'd ever needed to learn and it showed in the testing.

If nothing else, the next few weeks should be interesting, but really, the only part I was looking forward to was… admittedly Dennis. Okay, he was a bit naive of how things worked. His humor tended more to the sarcastic side and he had questionable taste in friends. The less said about his current career path, the better.

But for all of that, Dennis was nice easygoing company. So far it seemed he was withholding any judgments and actually wanted to know me. Not Gambit, but Renée. Granted there wasn't much, if any, difference, and before I met him, I'd probably have said there wasn't any. What differences existed, were subtle, and something I was only now seeing myself. Dennis had even gone well beyond the mark. How he got his hands on Annette's earring I lost in that fiasco, I had no idea, but getting it back when I'd written it off as a lost cause meant quite a lot.

Then again, Dennis was partly responsible for my current situation…

Finishing tying up my shoelaces, I shook those circular thoughts off. Unless it involved a heist, I never was one for long term planning anyway. Still, it was a safe bet I had at least one enemy in this city now. Be nice to know who it actually was. Then again, maybe he'd forget about it. Just chalked it up to the cost of doing business.

Right. I needed to find out who this guy was and why he wanted Dinah. Preferably before I ended up with another Two Mauls situation.

Exiting fully attired for my morning, I stopped at the base of the stairs.

"Sam?" I whispered.

"Thought I'd join you."

" _You_ want to go running?" I asked trying not to laugh. "The guy who complained every time we had to exercise in preparation for a job?"

"You usually wait until I'm hung over whenever you decide to pull something," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "From what you've said this city doesn't have a place that matches the view of the River, but hey, you like it here. That has to count for something. Danny said you run there and back now."

"Yeah," I said, shrugging.

"Sounds like that's going to be our new stomping ground."

"The players here treat it like neutral ground," I explained. "Hands off. Bad for business."

"Makes sense. Bourbon and Frenchmen St. were treated similarly. Can't mess much with the tourists, I get it, but that didn't stop us from hanging out there."

"Let's see how things go in the next week before we start setting up, eh?"

"You're the boss."

"It's not like that, Sam. The situation in Brockton Bay, not to mention my own, isn't exactly stable," I said, heading for the back door. "And don't call me boss."

"Sure, Boss," he said casually opening and then holding the door for me.

This time I rolled my eyes, but didn't correct him again. Instead I stepped through the door. Sam joined me in our pre run calisthenics before we headed in tandem down the street.

Having plenty of time, and rightly assuming Sam hadn't kept up with his own exercise routine, I set a steady light jog. Our path meandered through Danny's neighborhood, a small section of downtown, keeping east for the most part until finally reaching the Boardwalk.

All through our run, I pointed out various points of interest I'd discovered. Keeping pace with me, Sam would nod, joke, and more often offer his opinion, asked for or not. But that was Sam, and nothing new there. In a lot of ways, it was nice how easy this was. Familiar; even if the buildings and general sights around us were so vastly different than what we were used to.

At this time in the morning, the Boardwalk was practically deserted. The only presence, other than ourselves, came from either start of day deliveries or the infamous boardwalk security as went about their patrols.

"You're holding up well."

"Guy has to stay in shape to run with you," Sam chuckled, not even out of breath despite the distance we just ran. "Hope your beau knows this and gives me a better run than Shane did."

"I don't suppose I can bribe you to not do that?"

"Not a chance," he grunted.

"Dennis isn't like Shane," I said. Sam's expression was as set as his earlier words. "Or Marcus for that matter."

"We'll see."

"Sam," I sighed.

Instead of replying, he turned to me; a look in his eyes I hadn't seen since just after we left the Rats. That dark time before we found Sister Mary and the Orphanage. When it was just the two of us trying to somehow feed and care for those who believed there was a better way to live than servicing the Rat King.

"Katie seems like a good woman, _chéri_ ," I said softly.

"Yeah…"

Allowing a smirk to form, I used his hesitation to add, "I'm glad she decided to keep you. Maybe she'll have better luck training you than I had."

"Doubtful, _ma chère_ ," Sam returned. "But hey, we live in a world of super powers, so anything's possible, no?"

"Unfortunately, this is very true," I answered fondly. "You don't have to always look out for me, Sam. Especially now that you and Katie are getting serious."

"Katie knows the score."

I nodded at what wasn't said. "No scores up here, Sam. Especially if you plan to work with Danny. He runs an honest business."

"Fifty large in the wall says differently," he said, smirking.

"I'm not working with Danny," I pointed out, not bothering to question how he figured out how much I had, much less where. "And I doubt the previous owners will miss it."

Sam turned to me, blank faced.

"Much."

"Right," he chuckled. "Just sayin', for someone working the legit angle, you have a lot of loot."

"A girl has to eat," I returned not denying the accusation.

"True story, and better well fed, than hungry."

"Don't know about your hunger, but how about something to drink. Coffee?"

"Sure. There a place to get a cup around here?"

"Yeah. Jason makes a killing selling to boardwalk security and the delivery drivers."

"Sounds like a smart guy. How's his coffee?"

"It's not bad actually."

Leading the way it didn't take long to get to James's stand. Like usual the older man was happily doing what he did every morning. His stall wasn't much, a well supplied and decorated stall but the what made the stall memorable was man running it.

An older man, James's expression was as pleasant as his stall was festive. The man himself moved about doing the work of four people. All with a smile that typically never faded. At least until he looked up at his first customers of the day.

When his eyes locked onto mine, his smile faded almost as quickly as his eyes widened. Ignoring his reaction I said, "Bonjour. Two coffee's please."

"Ye-ye-of course…"

Paying for our drinks, I walked over to the railing overlooking the water some distance from the vendor. Leaning next to me, Sam asked, "Reactions are goin' to get worse you know."

"For a while," I said. After taking a sip, I continued. "Until they get used to me."

"Yeah? And what about Arcadia?" he asked.

"What about it?"

"You really think those spoiled rich kids are just going to roll with it? You don't think they're going to try something?"

"What can they do?" I asked rhetorically. "I'm officially out and registered. It's all perfectly legal and besides, it's not like the Protectorate didn't already know who I was and what I looked like."

"Still…"

"It was only a matter of time before they connected the dots."

"...I guess."

"I doubt I could have pulled off the double life anyways," I confessed, taking a sip. "Not once I started showing up places in armor. Believe it or not but I'll have more freedom to operate this way..."

"If you say so."

"...and the look on Glory Girls face when I show up today should be priceless."

"And _now_ we come to the real reason why you did all this," Sam laughed.

"It...was a contributing factor," I chuckled. My phone chiming intruded on our levity.

"I know that look," Sam chuckled. "What's next?"

"There is no next," I answered. "You're supposed to be going legit. Working for Danny. Second chances, no?"

"You need a foremen," Sam stated.

"It doesn't have to be you, Sam," I lowly pointed out. For a moment, he looked insulted before I continued. "I've heard of a couple of people that I can probably work with for that kind of thing. This is your chance to go straight."

"Maybe, but you're going to need someone, so it might as well be me. Besides, no reason we can't have some fun on the side, right?"

"We'll see," I said, looking at the phone still in my hands, and the message on the screen.

"So, what's up?"

"A couple of locals want to meet," I answered. "Might be a job offer. What I know of them, it probably is a job offer. I imagine they're always in need of something."

"When?"

"Now, if I can."

"Sudden," Sam grumbled. "Trap?"

"I wouldn't think so," I replied. "They didn't seem the type, but then again, everyone has a price."

"True enough," Sam nodded. "Not going to know different unless we go."

Taking a moment to think about it, I shook my head. "They don't know you, I'll go alone. Just in case it's a real offer."

"Seriously?"

"No need to sour one of the few contacts I've made."

"And if it _is_ a trap?" Sam asked, looking very concerned.

Smirking, I patted the side of Sam's worried face as I passed. "You know better than most that Gambit can take care of herself."


	37. Gambling Time: Chapter 3

**Gambling Time: Chapter Three**

Taking a sip of my coffee, I allowed myself another long look at the address I was sent. Unsurprisingly, it was a large abandoned and nondescript building. The docks seemed littered with such edifices. Something I'd utilized myself in the past back home. They were convenient, if not more than a little cliche. However, since coming to Brockton Bay, I'd personally just as soon be rid of using them than see the forlorn… _weight_ that seemed have such a hold on Danny whenever the subject came up. That look spoke far more to the history here than the sad appearance of the building itself.

No old signs answered the mystery of whom it once belonged to, or what it had been used for in the past. As I looked over it, I couldn't help but compare it, and the other buildings nearby to the bald cypress trees of home.

But really, if one thought about it, there really wasn't much difference between Danny's docks, and my bayou. Abandoned buildings instead of great weeping cypress trees, cracked and broken asphalt instead of water, while stray litter and creep weeds took the place of spanish moss. Here, the gators just looked different, and walked on two legs. That didn't make them less dangerous. Just the opposite.

That was fine. I knew how to handle gators. Both real ones, and those found here. Hopefully this wouldn't be something I'd have to deal with today. I'd rather have this be what it looked like; a job offer, and I had to admit I was rather curious what kind of work would come from these two.

Sipping my cooling coffee again, I continued taking in the area. Instead of all the trademarks which was associated with the bayou, the building sported faded paint, broken and boarded up windows, and more than a few spray painted markings. Which, to me, read like a timeline of who had once controlled this area, and when.

The front offered a set of double doors. Unlocked, I found, when I tried it. The message didn't offer instructions when I arrived, but I figured I was expected, so walked in.

An empty room greeted me, but I didn't let that fool me into thinking I had the wrong location. The room might have once been a reception area, or something, but years of neglect stained everything, making me wonder if anyone had ever entered this place since it closed. But a knowing eye could see the differences between this place and true abandonment. Differing layers of dust. A series of smudges leading to an open doorway. The lightest scent of… _Tang?_

Yeah, that was Tang. Seriously, someone other than Crackhead Johny actually drinks that stuff?

Following these signs led me through a series of more rooms. Silent at first, but eventually the sounds of two people arguing reached me. Not the angry shouts associated with robbery or other ill intent, but the slightly heated words sometimes shared between friends in disagreement.

"She'll never go for it."

"Dude, if anyone in this city can appreciate this stunt, it's Gambit."

"Dunno, man. Sounds like she's going legit."

"Gambit's the last cape to go legit. Lung will sell out before Gambit does."

"She was seen going into, and then _leaving_ the PRT building. Looks pretty legit to me."

"That's her whole shtick! Seriously man, she play's the indi rogue while skirting just under the radar. Dude, Google her; she's practically infamous in New Orleans for that shit. Always suspected, but never _caught,_ and some of the shit she's suspected of is next level shit."

"That's my point. Even if you're right, you want her to drive. There's nothing low profile in that shit!"

"We need another two wheelmen."

"We got mooks."

"Dude, those guys suck even for basic shit. Well, except the docks guys looking for extra work, but there's no way we're going to get any of them after Lung and Oni Lee melted and blew up Wayland street. Not until they're done with clean up anyway. Remember the _last_ time we tried recruiting when they had stuff goin'?"

"...yeah."

"Right, my point exactly. Okay, yeah, we could use some of the others but do you want this skit to be so… vanilla?"

Pausing by the doorway, I put my back to the wall. The second voice sighed.

When nothing followed, the first continued. "We need someone with skillz. Yeah, we could pull this off with just one more, but you know it won't be right with just us. Even with a couple of mooks to take up the other two cars."

"Maybe man, but this won't work at all if we tip our hands and the PRT is ready for us. What if she's not running a scam and really has changed sides? It's happened before."

"I'm telling you man, Gambit is not going to legit."

"You don't know that. You might be a thinker, but you're not Tattletale, dude. Besides, you heard what Preston said; we don't have a lot of time. We're only going to get one shot at this. There's no way we can make this happen if the PRT gets tipped off. We're too stretched as it is and it's going to take a miracle if we can even get half the shit we need by when we need it."

"That's why we need her help."

"Man, you need to stop thinking with your dick. Get your mind off her ass and back in the game. This is so stupid, we should pack everything up and forget about this whole thing."

"This is NOT stupid!"

Not the most auspicious start, but it wasn't like I could have expected better. I knew going in the question of exactly whose side I was on could possibly cost me rep. That was always the issue when you danced on the line. In the end I figured I could talk my way through it, like I always had, and those who wouldn't listen, I didn't need to do business with anyway. Besides, it wasn't like I couldn't go it alone if I had to. Still, one of them messaged me to meet, so maybe I could turn this around?

The sounds of arguing turned into a scuffle. When it didn't taper off after a few moments, I walked around the corner and through the door the ruckus was coming from.

Two bodies rolled around on the floor. The first, a white guy with dirty blond hair. His blue t-shirt and jeans just tight enough to show off a well proportioned and maintained physique. Without the over advertising some guys thought was needed to catch a girls eye. By contrast, his opponent was neither fair skinned nor loaded with physical advantages. Dusky skin showed around a rumbled matching t-shirt revealing a wiry; undeveloped frame, obviously lacking the muscle to overcome his counterpart. Unfortunately, also unskilled judging by his cursing and the chuckles from the first.

Still, neither were hard on the eyes from what I could see through the duel human pretzel before me. And two decent looking guys _were_ rolling around, getting sweaty and wrestling for my personal pleasure. I could think of worse ways to spend my morning.

Sadly, the show ended moments after I leaned against the wall to watch just how far it would go.

"Ah, dude?" the white guy half asked.

"Bonjour," I couldn't help answering.

"Of course she walks in right now," Leet sighed.

"What's she doing?" Uber asked, amusement clear in his voice.

"She's freaking watching us! What do you think she was doing?" Leet replied before quickly continuing. "You know what, no, don't answer that. I really don't want to know what you think she's doing. Especially when your ass is practically in my face! Get off me, man!"

"Hey, ah, Gambit?" Uber asked, not moving or releasing Leet from the lock he was in. Despite his struggles.

"You texted you wanted to meet." I said, holding up my cell knowing Uber couldn't see it. "I'm not sure which answer I would actually prefer right now but, was this for business or… something more personal?"

Chuckling, he asked, "mind turning around for a sec? You know, so we can get decent and talk about it?"

"Awe," I muttered, complying while trying to hold back my chuckle at their situation. "Very well, but so you know, I was rather enjoying the show."

Shuffles, a thud, and a few choice curses sounded behind me. While they were getting up and masked, I took in the room..

It was similar to crash pads I'd seen and used before, with a few notable differences. A couple of futons, empty soda and beer cans interspaced with take out bags and boxes were common enough in such places. The various bits of half finished mechanical contraptions, not so much. Probably one of their safe houses, and one not used much as most of what I presumed to be tinker gadgets looked recently moved around. A huge corkboard littered with notes, a bunch of pictures of the inside of Brockton Bay's biggest Mall, and marked street maps, also looked slightly out of place. Like they'd only been here a few days and couldn't resist plotting. That by itself wasn't strange, but in the middle of the whole thing was a picture of what looked like a pre-teen guy, and an address for...

"Brockton Memorial?"

Thankfully the duo were still arguing in whispers. Nothing I could make out, but by the tone, it was a continuation of the argument I overheard a moment ago, which means they didn't hear my own whisper. Eventually one of them sighed.

"Alright, Gambit."

Turning around showed the top halves of their faces covered in simple black masks. Uber was smirking, obviously finding humor in how things were going so far. Leet on the other hand, wasn't.

"Since the show's over, and neither of you are naked, I assume strait to business?"

"Why," Uber asked. "Into that kind of thing? I can strip down real quick."

Leet facepalmed, groaning. Taking the lid off my coffee cup, I hit it with a touch of my power. Instantly the remaining coffee started rolling sending a visible cloud of steam upward.

"Was that why you texted me to come here?" I asked nonchalantly, sipping the now reheated coffee.

"Not really," Uber chuckled. "Got a job offer, if you're interested. And there was this other thing…"

"Dude," Leet hissed.

"That's alright."

With both of their attention on me, I shrugged. "I'm an unknown. Makes sense you'd want to keep things close, just in case. What kind of job?"

"Supplies," Uber answered, frowning at his friend.

"High end, or common?"

"Mostly common stuff, though there's a few on the list that might be difficult to get in the quantities we need."

That fit with my first thoughts when I got the text. "Time frame?"

"We need everything by tomorrow night," Leet answered.

"Dude, you said we'd be alright if we had everything by Thursday…"

"You mentioned a list," I interrupted again. "It would help to know what you expect me to acquire."

Uber walked over the to table I noted earlier. He handed me the list a moment later once he rejoined us.

It was a sizable list and, yeah, two sided. Looking through it, and noting the quantities, I noted that this was about three or four trucks worth of inventory. Which meant possible transportation and storage issues. Really, this was a pretty impossible list for one person by tomorrow night. Even Jess couldn't pull it off.

"Twenty." At the blank stares directed at me I clarified. "If you want all of this by tomorrow night, twenty thousand."

"The fuck?" Leet cursed. "Everything on that doesn't even come up to five 'kay!"

"If you had the leisure to buy it all, you're right," I agreed. "But you don't. I'm going to have to take some risks to acquire all of this by tomorrow without anyone knowing who's doing it, much less where it's going. Unless you don't care if anyone knows it's you who's getting these supplies. If so, just ten should cover my expenses."

Putting his hand on Leet's shoulder, Uber asked, "How much with a Wednesday night timeline?

That was more reasonable. "Fifteen. I'm fairly sure at least two of these items can't be acquired through easy means. I'll need to find out where to get them."

"Ten," Uber countered. "And I'll tell you where we know most of that stuff can be found."

"Fourteen. I'll need to hire hands. My time is limited during the week."

"Eleven, we know people who don't mind doing dirty work for hard cash."

"If you trusted them to do this, you wouldn't have contacted me," I pointed out. "Thirteen, and if I don't have everything on this list by Wednesday, I'll finish it for free by the following night."

"That's pretty fair, dude," Uber muttered to Leet.

Unimpressed, Leet simply said, "Twelve."

"You really don't trust me, do you Leet?" I asked, deciding to tackle the particular hurdle now rather than wait and hope it would fix itself.

"You hang out with Assault and were seen going in and out of the PRT building," Leet returned.

"You didn't mind taking his money last month."

"She's got you there, man," Uber laughed.

Leet's frown deepened. "Villains and Heros don't mix."

"I think we all know what happens to capes without friends," I countered. "Not all of us are as lucky as you."

My point seemed to soften him up a bit. Something that became even more noticeable when Uber put his hand back on Leet's shoulder.

"Make no mistake," I continued casually. "Gambit is no hero, nor looking to be one. However, I have rent to pay like everyone else and until you messaged me, options weren't falling over themselves to come my way."

I gave them a moment to digest that before haggling once more. "I'll do the job for twelve on one condition."

"What's that?" Uber asked.

Sipping my coffee, I answered. "That when this is done, you guys keep me in mind. Regardless to what you think of how I spend my free time, I am, after all, a professional. While work like this, once in awhile, is fine, I prefer jobs more suited to my talents. So gentlemen, we have a deal, yes?"


	38. Gambling Time: Chapter 4

**Gambling Time: Chapter Four**

Seeing Katie's car turn onto the street ahead of me, I finished putting out the last feeler. Despite being in a time crunch I most likely wouldn't see any replies until later this afternoon, at the earliest. Which was fine. I was going to be trapped in Arcadia for a good part my daylight hours anyway.

Getting in the back of the car when it stopped Sam asked from the driver's seat, "What's the word?"

"Supply run. Sam, I appreciate what you said earlier, but there's no reason for you guys to get involved and ruin things. I can piece together a burn team easily enough."

"Let's just pretend you didn't say that, alright?" Sam grunted before holding his hand out, "Shopping list?"

"Fine, yeah, here," I sighed, handing him the paper Uber gave me. "Danny's going to be very upset with us if this deal goes sideways and we all get pinched."

"They have to catch us first," he muttered.

"Here," Katie said handing me a bundle of clothes from the passenger seat. "Penny figured with the sudden meet you wouldn't have time to come back to the house. Sent us with your stuff for school."

"Thanks," I said relieved, taking the bundle. "And thank Penny for me when you get back please."

"Will do."

Setting my clothes to the side, I took the go bag Katie handed to me. Thankfully it had all my hygiene supplies for when I didn't have time to stop by the apartment.

"Lots of stuff here," Sam noted while I tended to the necessities. " _Quine._ "

"That's what I was thinking."

"Any idea on where we're working?"

"A few," I hedged. True be told, I didn't really have much of an idea yet. Uber's suggestions might pan out, but I preferred doing my own homework. "I'll know more later. If I have to I'll ask Circus for details, but I'd rather leave them out of this one if I can. I don't know their employer and most likely they'd have to use him to get what we need."

"Yeah, some pockets are harder to get out of than others. You know we're going to need a crew. What's our time frame?"

"Wednesday night."

"Not much time. Off the top of my head, we're going to need a couple of Frank Martin's, a handful of Jacks and an Avalon."

"I'll talk to Chubster," I answered the unspoken question. "He knows a few good guys who are hungry. As for Avalon, the docks are littered with them. Just need one that suits."

"Sounds good." Finished with the paper, he pocketed it. A quick tilt of the rear view mirror to give me some privacy preceded putting the car into drive. "Any standouts?"

"One. What's Penny doing today?"

Joining the conversation, Katie answered. "Said she was going to the Boardwalk to get a feel for what kind of opportunities she might have with the tourists here and see the sights. She also wanted to check out some of the fresh seafood vendors to see what there was to work with."

That sounded like her. "Can you ask her to swing by Brockton Memorial for me?"

"Sure. Any reason?"

"Yeah," I answered Finished with cleaning up, I removed my shoes so I could change. "Uber and Leet are interested in a kid there on the seventh floor. I'd like to know why."

"That doesn't sound bad, at all," Sam muttered.

Nodding to his point, Katie said, "I'll let her know. I'm sure she'll enjoy working over one or more of the doctors there for information."

"Penny would," I chuckled despite the dark overtones the conversation had taken. "Either way, what she finds out might change how this job ends."

"Shit," Sam cursed. "Damn right."

Looking out the window gave me a sense for how little time I had left to finish getting ready. However when I came across the shirt Penny picked out for me, I could help but sigh.

Turning it so Katie could see the front I asked, "Really?"

Smiling, Sam's girl shrugged. "What did you expect?"

"Remember how I told you to thank her for me earlier?" I said sourly. "Don't."

Sam's smirk confirmed that he knew about this. Payback was going to be a bitch later. For both of them.

"Even the devil on my shoulder sometimes whispers, 'WTF are you doing now?'", I read aloud. "This isn't what I had laid out this morning for my first day of school."

"Penny," Sam chuckled while keeping his eyes on the road.

"And where is my coat?" I groused.

"She said you weren't supposed to wear your work stuff at school," Katie answered seemingly just as amused by my reactions as Sam. "According to your deal with the Protectorate. She sent this coat for you though."

Looking at the object she held up, I slumped in my seat. "That's not my coat."

"It's warm," she said. "And leather."

"Not the point, Katie." Resigned, I put on the shirt Penny sent. It had the benefit of being clean and it wasn't like Penny gave me any options. "Not my style."

"I think that was the point, Renee. You're the one who said we're not supposed to make any waves."

"True," Sam added. "We're supposed to be walking the line till they lose interest. Since we're pulling a job, we'll have to be extra circumspect to avoid attention that's going to fall on us anyways once shit goes down."

"Fine," I sighed knowing they were right. Taking the stupid coat, I put it on. It _was_ warm.

Still wasn't my style, but I'd make due.

When Sam turned on the street Arcadia was on, I took the little mirror from Katie as well as my makeup bag. It was almost showtime. Thankfully by the time Sam pulled into the parking lot, I just added the finishing touches.

"Sam, do you think you can pick me up around three?"

"Sure," he answered. "I can do that. Danny has us working a half day today. Training."

"Excellent. See you guys then. Thanks for the helping out this morning. You too, Katie."

Sam nodded with is usual smirk while Katie smiled. "No problem."

Getting out, I started making my way toward the entrance. Other arriving students made a nice crowd to move through. Didn't take much to lose myself in the press of adolescent humanity surrounding me.

Despite my thoughts on the outfit Penny forced on me, it helped to blend in. I was just another teen in the crowd until I got to the steps where Dennis was waiting for me.

He put some effort into his appearance today, which was thoughtful if needless of him. Next to him was another guy I'd seen hanging out with Dennis a few times. Well dressed in that casual rich boy way. That meant he was Dean, Dennis's sort of best friend until recent events.

Well, before me would be more accurate. I suppose I should have felt more guilty about that, but I didn't.

Looking bored, Dennis nodded along to whatever Dean was saying before he spotted me, eyes locked on mine. A warm, if slightly concerned smile greeted me as I moved from the crowd toward him.

"Bonjour, Dennis."

"Hey, Renée," he said. "You look really nice today."

"Sweet talker," I complimented before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

Turning away from the blushing teen, I greeted his friend. "Bonjour, Dean."

Like Dennis when I was approaching him, Dean stared right into my eyes. Unlike Dennis, Dean didn't seem to appreciate the view.

"I've been better, Renee wasn't it?"

"Oui." How cute, like he didn't know who I was. "I'm sorry about your car."

"Thanks?" he muttered. "I guess."

"I mean it. It was a really nice car."

"It was, yeah," he said, seemingly even more off balance the longer the conversation went on.

"Just so you are aware," I continued as if noticing nothing. "It wasn't personal. I didn't know that one was yours when I took it. I just needed a fast car and it was the closest."

"Okay…"

"If it helps at all, it gave its life for a good cause."

"You know what, it really doesn't," he almost growled. "I'm… _trying_. Yes, apparently you saved a girl from being kidnapped but couldn't you have jacked the explorer in the next spot!?"

Who would steal an Explorer when there was a _Camaro_ available?

Plus, if you're going to steal a car, _steal in style._ But, I didn't say it outloud. No need to rub salt in the wound and he already seemed pretty pissed about the whole thing.

"It's not unsalvageable, Dean. If you wanted to restore it, I know some people who do body work. Straight cash though, no checks or cards and I wouldn't recommend asking too many questions, but they do excellent work. By the time they're done, you'd never know it was totaled."

He blinked at my smirk for a moment, and whipped his head as if trying to shake off what I'd just told him. Seemingly having had enough, Dean sighed before turning to Dennis, saying, "See you in Trig, man."

"Alright," Dennis replied while failing to hide his amusement at the situation.

"Have a good day, Renee," he said, with just enough cordiality to be polite while simultaneously implying that he would love to punch me in the face.

Huh, I guess he really was the gallant type. None of my friends could have pulled that off.

"That went well," I noted, watching Dean walk away seeming torn between anger and befuddled confusion.

"You're such a troll," Dennis laughed.

"I have my moments," I said, not arguing the point. "I just thought it would be better to just rip off the bandaid. Get it over with."

"That you did."

"Think it will help?"

"I doubt it."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Nice try though. Also, very funny. At least for me. I thought it was hilarious."

"Thank you. I do like to make a good first impression. For what it's worth, I _am_ sorry. He was an ass and completely deserved it, but I didn't _intend for it._ "

"Sure you didn't."

"Just a happy coincidence."

"Trust me, I doubt Dean will ever believe that," he laughed.

"See, this is why I rarely tell the truth," I pouted. "No one ever believes me."

"Yeah, I'm sure _that_ is the reason." Hearing the bell ring, Dennis asked, "What's your first class?"

"Remedial English," I answered. "I apparently have problems with American English syntax and sentence structure. Which I will admit is an issue. Not a skill I really needed before. It's not like I'm the kind of villain who likes to leave notes to taught the police or heros."

Ignoring my point, Dennis stuck with the prior topic asking, "205, Ms. Strauss?"

"Yes."

"I'll show you where it is," he said before picking up his backpack and leading the way inside. "A friend of mine has the same class for the same reasons."

"And the fact you get to walk me to class has nothing to do with it, hmm?" I asked knowing better. "Fishing for a goodbye kiss, _chéri_?"

"Nope, not at all," he answered. His tone of fake innocence was worse than his poker face when he turned to me. "I'm a complete gentleman. No ulterior motives here, no ma'am."

 ** _XxXGambitXxX_**

The day passed in a series of classes, teachers and my peers. The classes themselves wouldn't have been so bad, except that while each seemed interesting on paper the reality of living through them differed greatly.

In short, they were boring. The subject matter distilled mostly into raw data that did little to hold my attention. There was also how my various teachers tried to present the most information for the subject at hand into the allotted time of the class allowed didn't help matters either. A situation made worse by my mere presence. A patterned repeated in every single class I was in. Even the hallways didn't provide much of a break.

Then again, I figured it was going to be like this. For a while anyway.

I imagine my situation wasn't much different for Glory Girl and Panacea when their powers kicked in. Teen interest for heroes in a world like ours was always high and being open about it in a social trainwreck like a high school was bound to create some issues. That said, after a period of adjustment, things settled down. That was what my research said, anyway.

For me, the first hurdle, and the most noticeable as I knew it would be, was my eyes. I was done with contacts, at least for things like this. My decision was made, I am who I am, and I felt no shame in being who I was. While that was similar with one of New Wave's philosophies it added a twist to the situation.

Namely, word got around fast and it wasn't unusual to catch people craning their necks to get a look at me. Never openly, always in the corner of my eye while I walked through the halls. In classes, it was more peeks, or out right stares by the those who either didn't care about being rude, or were just socially awkward and didn't know better. Or maybe just plain surprised.

In all fairness, I had to give that it was a toss up if my situation had to do more with the fact I was the weird outsider with the funny accent, the teen cape with the devil eyes, or, as information was traded people connected the dots, that I was the new girl who Glory Girl blew up at.

By my last class before lunch, I didn't have an answer, but it didn't escape me that most likely it was that all three were in play. Judging by how many teachers reprimanded students for having their phones out in class, I bet Parahumans Online had an unexpected high spike of traffic as people tried to figure out who I was. It was likely to get worse at lunch when people started looking for details on Gambit because there wasn't any hiding that tidbit. Assuming it hadn't already done the rounds.

It went without saying that little actual work was done by anyone in my classes. Much to the teachers ire, which explained all the homework that was thrown at us.

Despite the novelty, I was banking it would die down once people got used to me. As time passed, I would cease being the new girl or the new cape at Arcadia. Hopefully. Dennis did say that a lot of people here seemed to make a thing about Ward age capes, and trying to figure out who was who. Not a deal to me, but it still set up this place as kind of like a live Parahumans Online page. Just with all the awkward and asinine high school drama associated with a place like this. At the sound of the lunch bell, I packed up my notes before heading to the cafeteria.

Ignoring the not so subtle gawkers I got my lunch finding a table out of the mainstream which, luckily enough, I didn't have to share.

"Hey," Dennis said, sitting next to me. "How is your first day of school going?"

"I can see why all my friends dropped out."

"It's not that bad," Dennis chuckled.

"Hmm," I returned noncommittally. "So you say."

"Any problems, other than the stares?" he asked.

"Nothing I can't handle, _mon'ami._ "

My endearment earned me a slight pause in setting up his lunch. As well as a smile and faint blush. Though that could have been the apple I'd set in plain view on the table when I noticed him standing in line.

Clearing his throat, Dennis asked, "What do you have left for the day?"

"Geometry and self study," I answered.

"Great. At least we have one class together. Unfortunately I have English next but then I have my own self study. Meet in the library? I can help you with stuff, if you needed it."

"Sure, _cher_ ," I said fondly. "I'd like that."

While Dennis made inroads into his double cheeseburger, I started on my salad with no less gusto. By silent mutual consent, neither of us looked, much less acknowledge the looks we were getting Victoria's table.

While I was willing to rile up Dean a bit for his part in past events, riling up Glory Girl hadn't historically worked well for many people. And if I'd had to write apology letters to people for just being who I was, I would have been upset too. So, it wasn't like I didn't understand what her deal was. What I didn't get was the dark looks from the mousy girl sitting at the same table.

"Who's that," I asked, subtly pointing her out to Dennis. "I've seen you hanging out with her a few times."

"Who…oh. That's Amy Dallon. Surprised you didn't recognize her."

"Ah," That made sense now. "Her press doesn't do her justice. She looks a lot different without the robe. Doesn't seem like I'm not making many friends in the Dallon camp."

"It helps that you didn't actually get into a fight with Victoria," Dennis commented. "Amy's very protective of Victoria. Funny enough though, I overheard her arguing with Vicky about how you were right about the thing that happened. So don't assume she's against you. Give her time. Amy takes some getting used to, but she's good people."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"It also helps that you're picking on Dean."

"Hmm. It's true that mutual enemies have spawned many great friendships," I half joked.

"I wouldn't go that far," Dennis chuckled. "But she doesn't like him much."

"Probably because he dating her sister," I said. Dean was getting similar looks that I was from over the binding of her book. It was the only thing I could think of that fit the situation.

"Most likely. She didn't have a problem with him until then."

"Drama."

"Welcome to the Highschool Life."

"Charming," I drawled. "I'm starting to think getting into a cape fight is preferable to this lifestyle."

Before Dennis could do more than chuckle, a shadow fell over the table. The person it belonged to belonged to a redheaded girl I'd actually knew.

"Ashley," I greeted warmly. "I didn't know you went to school here."

"I could say the same about you, Renée," she replied. "I thought Jessica was pulling my leg when she told me you were going here today."

" _Non_. Today is my first day actually."

"How's it going?"

"Awkward, but it was expected," I answered easily. "I only know a few people here and half of them think I'm planning on robbing the place."

"Are you?" Ashley asked, smirking.

"Not at the moment, but the day is young, no?"

Laughing, she shook her head.

"You probably know each other, but have you met Dennis?"

"We share third period Science class," Dennis said. "Hey Ashley. I didn't know you knew Renée."

"Hey. Yeah, she's been hanging out with my Troop. Met her at our last meeting when she talked Triumph into letting us tie him up. Hey, some of us were thinking of starting a self defense class for the girls. Anyway we can get you to teach it? Instructors are expensive and you probably know more about it than they do anyway."

A bit surprised at the sudden question, I considered it for a moment before shaking my head. "My style isn't something most people can learn, _chérie_. It takes a lot of dedication, not to mention flexibility. It's not something most easily can do."

"Yeah, I get that but there's other stuff you can teach us though, right?" Ashley half begged. "After what happened to Angelia, a lot of the girls have been asking about something like this. Not just the younger ones either. A lot of us think it would be an awesome idea. Hell, even my _Mom's_ asked me to ask if I saw you again."

"Seriously," Dennis chuckled. "Your Mom wants to take a Gambit self defense class?"

"Pfft, like you don't," Ashley shot back. "Besides, Kailey said you live out on Lexington Ave. That's on the outskirts of the Empire. You know what this city's like."

"True," Dennis agreed easily.

Seeing that I wasn't getting out of this one easily, I shook my head at the weirdness. "Alright, I guess there's a couple of things I can show you guys to defend yourself."

"Yay," Ashley squealed. "Jessica and Mom are going to be super excited. Can we do it tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow's bad for me," I said regretfully. I had a date with a warehouse and probably a few other places. No way I'd have time for this too. "Wednesday's bad too, but I could do it Thursday."

"Sweet! Hang on a second, I need to check with Mom real quick but I think we can get everyone together then."

"And the legend of the Girl Scout Mafia grows," Dennis joked seemingly far more amused than he had any right to be while Ashley dashed back to her table. "I can't wait until people get wind of you teaching them how to fight. Also, how is Triumph getting tied up by girl scouts not a thing? More importantly, why haven't I heard about this yet?"

"You're not exactly the last to know, Dennis," I said, rolling my eyes at his pout. "He asked, and the girls agreed, that it would just be between them. It was his one condition to being the practice dummy."

"You're telling me this story later. I need details."

"I'll think about it."

"Well, then I'll just have to think about not inviting you to a party I know about on Friday," He tried haggling. "A friends parents are going out of town for the weekend and I heard a couple of guys are bringing a keig."

"And absolutely nothing can go wrong with this scenario," I laughed. Still, might be interesting. Nothing sped up getting accepted like a party. I know, Sam and I trashed several crash pads when we were getting started.

And afterward, but less said about some of those, the better. Never did figure out where that baby hippo came from but I'm pretty sure whatever the story was, it wasn't exactly legal.

Also possibly unethical, which was why we didn't look too closely at it. Just dropped it off at the zoo when we found the little guy.

Either way, best if the topic never came up.

"Alright," I caved. Seeing Ashley coming back, I continued. "Later though."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Sorry it took a bit," Ashley apologized. "Had to message my sister back. She's been blowing up my phone all day asking if I saw you yet and she want's details."

That matched up with the little chatterbox I remembered. "How is she?"

"Annoying," Ashley said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, it looks like Thursday is a go. Also, since Jessica was absolutely sure you went here, she snuck this into my backpack for you."

My curiosity bloomed into a full smile when Ashley handed me the baret.

"It's even my favorite color," I said appreciatively. "Green."

It looked like it took every bit of Dennis's self control to not start howling when he saw it. The nice solid green was only broken by the patch on the front. As typical of these types of berets, the Girl Scouts crest stood proudly complete with a G.S. inside the clover. A pin on the left had a B.B. to affiliate locally. The best part however, was that the all of that existed over a fan of playing cards. All of them aces' just like the relief carving on my watch.

This had Angela written all over it. Or Marcy. I wouldn't put it past either of the sly girls to have orchestrated something like this. They'd been begging me to take over the troop for weeks now and I'm pretty sure they weren't joking about staging a coup. Looks like they decided to stage one of their own while I was healing.

I immediately put it on, tilting it slightly for a roguish look. Whatever self control Dennis had left was lost when I turned to get his opinion.

"Perfect," I said, chuckling at his reaction and ignoring the sudden attention our table received, I turned to Ashley. "Thank you very much. I love it."

"Awesome," Ashley gushed. "All of us got one to give you last week so don't be surprised if you get drowned in hats once people figure out you back in the open. I can't believe I was the first one to find you though. I thought for sure it would have been Angela or Marcy. We all pitched in you know, but it was originally their idea."

"Somehow, I am not surprised," I said getting a giggle from Ashley that was lost to Dennis's continuing laughter. Every time he about got it under control, he would look at me and it started over again. Mumbling to himself about how someone named Missy can never know.

If even half my days here went this well, maybe this high school thing wouldn't be so bad after all.


	39. Gambling Time: Chapter 5

**Gambling Time: Chapter 5**

 _...Wednesday Night…_

" _I'm just saying…"_

"It's done," I interrupted. "Where are we?"

Ignoring the frustrated sigh coming through my ear piece, I lept. My jump carried me from the rooftop to the light pole. From there, another light pole before landing on the rooftop across the street several stories below me.

" _We're where we expected to be,"_ Sam finally answered. Once my roll bled off momentum, I regained my feet for the next sprint. Wouldn't do to be late to my own party.

"Anyone unaccounted for?"

" _Not yet. You know, this isn't going to go unnoticed, right?"_

"That was the idea."

" _Not what I meant, Renée, and you know it. People are going to figure it out."_

"Maybe," I answered knowing he was probably right. "Look, this isn't a good time to argue about something that we already knew was going to be a thing."

" _Damn it, Renée,"_ he cursed.

According to Danny, this area of the Docks technically used to be part of the Boardwalk until a few years ago. Today, it acted like something of a buffer between the tourists, and the hardened criminal element that resided further into the cities no man's land. It was a shame, really. In my run tonight, I past several places that looked like they would have been fun hotspots back then. From here, I could see a restaurant that might have once been dedicated to fresh seafood. Now it's parking lot was dark and empty aside from the creep weeds breaking through the asphalt. With its location and what I could see of the view from my own perch, I bet the dinners view would have been fantastic.

Even though this area wasn't active anymore, I could see the bright lights of the Boardwalk proper clearly. If I listened hard enough, I'd probably be able to hear laughter or other various bits of revelry. A sharp contrast to the imposing buildings behind me where only every other street light worked, or even existed. Whether that was due to age, poor maintenance, or more likely; cape fights, was anyone's guess.

"You worry too much, _mon cher_ ," I said. Turning around, I looked for movement. Nothing stood out, but again, that wasn't surprising, considering. However, that did little for the hairs sticking up on the back of my neck.

" _And you worry to little,"_ Sam groused. Switching tactics he asked, " _What about your beau? This isn't going to sit well with him when he finds out. And let's be honest,_ chérie, _he's going to find out."_

"He's not stupid. He knew what he was getting into," I answered before taking off again. I needed to be two streets over for a better look. "Besides, you don't even like him and now you're concerned over his reaction to current events?"

" _Not really. I mean, what does he know about shit? Besides, something about him don't seem right. Seems shysty,"_ he grumbled. " _But you like him, and I'm just saying, this isn't going to go well with him."_

"I think he'll surprise you."

" _It's you being surprised that worries me, Renée."_

"Maybe," I chuckled. Moving to the edge of the roof to get a look at the street below, I added, "but I like surprises."

On seeing the flashing red and blue lights, I muttered, "and speaking of surprises."

The squadcar kept pace with the car ahead of it. Both moving through the mostly abandoned street as fast as they dared considering the potholes and such. Honestly, it was surprising neither car lost a tire, or wheel really. Looking away I could see the glow of at at least two others moving this way to intercept from different streets. Obviously trying to cut them off.

"Looks like you're going to have to start the party without me," I said. "I'm going to be late."

" _What happened?"_ Sam asked tiredly. I couldn't help but chuckle at his tone. He really didn't like this.

"Nothing I can't handle, _mon cher_ ," I answered before leaping on top of the adjacent light pole for a better shot. Pulling a card, I charged it up with just enough to blow a tire. Hopefully that will keep the car from losing control too much.

"I knew it!"

Turning around at the sudden voice, I found a cape floating in the air behind me. Ignoring her for the moment, I said, "You know what to do. I'll see you after I'm done here."

Sam's sigh was his only response as I disconnected the call.

"I knew you were up to something," Glory Girl crowed.

"I am?" I asked, smirking while also keeping an eye on the approaching vehicles.

I wasn't sure what was more funny, the triumphant look on her face, or hearing her snort to my question.

"I overheard you today at school," she said. "When you were on the roof talking on your cell."

"It's not nice to eavesdrop on private conversations. It's not very heroic, you know."

"Yeah, like I'm going to take advice from someone like you," Glory Girl scoffed. "I know about your stupid code talk. Do you honestly think you're the first one to think of something like that or that we wouldn't have gotten information on you as soon as you came to town?"

Not surprising, but good to know. Not all hero groups back home got along well enough with the PRT to share information. I figured things would be different here, but it was still good information to know New Wave was on the short list.

"I heard enough to know you were plotting something," she continued. "And that it had to do with someone stealing a bunch of cars tonight."

"So you followed me to prove it, hmm? Stalking isn't very heroic either," I pointed out.

"You should look up more when you're plotting crimes," she said seemingly unphased by my comments. "Seems like a stupid thing to forget but everyone makes mistakes, and you made your last one tonight."

"I'll keep that in mind going forward," I drawled. "But, I haven't done anything wrong yet that you can prove, _ma chère._ "

"Please, it's obvious you plan to stop that car from getting caught." She surely stated. "When he is caught, he'll rat you out and that will be enough to prove to everyone what kind of cape you really are."

"Everyone, or just Dennis?" I asked, letting a knowing smirk show. "Should a certain someone be worried about your interest in my love life? It's flattering, _chérie,_ and you do have a certain _je ne sais quoi,_ but the ladies do not interest me in that way. Sorry."

"What? No, I didn't," she sputtered before catching on to what I was doing. After a moment, she growled through her embarrassment, "Enough, you're coming with me."

"So sure about that?" I asked. "This isn't Downtown, girlfriend. You're in Gambit's house now."

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "You're better off giving up. You can't take me you know. I'm invincible."

"If you say so," I chuckled.

The next moment we both readied ourselves for the inevitable. Glory Girl tensed, body ready to rush my fragile position on top of the light pole. To bad there wasn't anyone out here to see her, it was a striking pose. Tiara slightly sparkling in the dim light, cape and one piece dress slightly fluttering in the wind showing hints of the shorts underneath, but mostly her long legs. Couldn't blame her for that though. If you have it, flaunt it, and it wasn't hard to see why she was popular at Arcadia, or as a hero even without the classic Alexandra Package.

I couldn't help but wonder if she practiced it. Looked practiced.

As for me, I stayed half kneeling while enjoying the rush of adrenaline that always hit me right before doing something that most people considered incredibly stupid. While I prefered to avoid cape fights, that didn't mean I didn't enjoy the challenge now and then.

"So, Villain vs. Hero; the battle eternal. Shall we?"

"Gladly," Glory Girl smirked.

She rocketed toward me. Leaping upward, I managed to flip over her while she dealt with the fact her target wasn't where she expected it to be. A quick twist and my foot connected with the back her head. Instead of flying across the street. She barley crossed half way before spinning around to try again. Just in time to take the card I already had charged.

The brief flash was enough to send her off course buying me time to slide down and get my feet on firm ground since fighting on top of a light pole was foolhardy at best. I didn't get very far before she on me again.

Sliding my foot back, I ducked under the coming hit letting Glory Girl's fist strike the building behind me. Broken fragments pleted the back of my armor confirming my information that she had super strength, and a lot of it.

That confirmed she could give a good hit. The only question now was if she could take one.

Striking with an uppercut rocked her head back. Ducking under her next swing I pretended to kick high with my left foot before quickly sliding in with a roundhouse to her stomach. It didn't do as much as I'd like and Glory Girl seemed to think being this close put things in her favor. She never saw my leg move upward, strait up my body catching her just under her jaw with the side of my foot. A quick snap downward caught her with my heel, just missing her groin but still hitting her upper thigh. Hard enough earn a shout and to buckle her knee, forcing her to put distance between us and favoring her left leg.

"Where did you get your earrings, _mon'amie?"_ I lazily asked. "

"Seriously?" She snorted.

"Diamonds are not very practical for girls in our line of work but I like shiny things and they sure are pretty."

"New jewelry isn't going to be a problem where you're going," she said rushing me again. This time not letting her feet touch the ground and not staying near as close as a moment ago. Giving her a sliding motion to her movements that prevented either of us from doing more than dodge and strike at each other once.

Telling, but not enough. The problem with fighting flying bricks like Glory Girl, was that a lot of my usual style didn't work if they decided to keep things like this. You also can't easily trip most flyers, or use gravity to your advantage. Instead, the game became about keeping distance where their strength wasn't as effective and trying to get them to make a mistake.

Our brief exchange did teach me a couple of things about her though. One, her rushes were controlled, not the mad dashes most brutes I'd tussled with used. Two, she was also trying to keep the fight in the street. What advantage it gave me was marginalized by her ability to fly. However, while she had powers similar to Alexandria, she didn't have the same control over her flight like the iconic heroine. Glory Girl could take a hit, true, but inertia was still a thing and it took a second for her to overcome strong hits and she absolutely didn't like dealing with multiple hits.

Deciding to test part of that theory, I let her fly at me, waiting until she'd committed herself to the attack before moving.

Twisting away, I jumped under the hit charging the sole of my boot. A cheap trick that worked well on capes who tended to be hard to put down. The kick to the back sent her ragdoll flying toward the building but just short of crashing through it, she shot upward.

"Take a card, any card!"

Adjusting my balance to compensate for the damage I'd done to my boot, I threw charged playing cards after her pockmarking the side of the building marking her ballistic climb. None of them hit, and I didn't hold out any hope the peppering she was getting was doing anything but pissing her off and slightly tearing up her costume.

Glory Girl recovered in seconds, turning her climb into another charge. The earlier smirk on her face more of a snarl showing her frustration at not being able to get her hands on me. That didn't detract from the shine in her eyes however. It was a look I knew well. Part of her was enjoying this, though I doubt she'd ever admit it. My tactics did manage to do one thing, I had her full attention now.

 _That's right, Gambit's the only one here._

Like before I moved to slip just past her. Unlike before she was expecting it this time.

"Got you!" She crowed as vice like hands grabbed my ankle and foot before she threw me away with ridiculous ease.

Right at the car being chased by the police.

Her shout at finally getting me turned into a gasp as Glory Girl realized too late what she'd done, and too late to do anything about it but watch. She had the Alexandria Package, not Legends.

Not how I planned to do this, but I could work with it.

Quickly charing three cards, I threw them at the street. The driver seeing the volatile objects racing toward them, jerked the wheel sending the expensive looking car into a sideways skid in a desperate attempt to not get hit.

However, I wasn't aiming for the car. The cards hit the street inches in front of it. Between the following explosion and skid, it flipped into the air as I intended. My own flight ended on the asphalt. Trying to bled off the momentum I tried rolling.

Even as my back hit the street kicking the air out of my lungs, I knew how absolutely insane this was. Me rolling out of control across the street, sideways flipping car just above, and just ahead, broken pavement which I'd get to know better shortly.

This was going to make a great story later.

Even better, was the look on the driver's face. Something I saw clearly in that split second as we passed each other despite the cracked glass that separated us. The driver, who looked exactly like what one would expect from a run of the mill thug, sat buckled tightly, one hand gripping the steering wheel. The other hand flipping me off. A single cut bled from their split eyebrow was the only detraction from the resigned look on their face. Mouthing something I only caught part of as we went our separate directions.

 _Bit…._

The car bounced a couple of times before sliding to a stop down the street on its hood. Laying across the street like a barricade. Thankfully the cop cars chasing it also stopped, blocking off the road ahead. I figured I was only about twenty feet away before I finally came to a stop.

Laying in the street, I looked back at the car I barely managed to avoid. Glory Girl floated just in front of it, checking on the driver. Must have been well enough, or maybe their condition wasn't her concern as she turned away, moving toward me.

"Stay down, Gambit."

Chuckling, I got back to my feet. Despite nearly getting me killed, Glory Girl didn't waste time catching up to me. Looking a little pale, she still looked eager to keep going, if I was.

Facing her, I smirked. "You should be careful, Glory Girl, because if you keep this up, you're going to have yourself one Ragin' Cajun on your hands. And you wouldn't like me when I'm...upset."

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she snorted. "I told you, you can't beat me. It's over."

"We'll see. The fun's just starting, _chérie._ "

Using her distraction, I hit her with a charged card sending her into a building. She wasn't there long but despite my injuries, I was already moving back into the fight myself.

As if the buildings and three cars formed boundaries of an arena, we fought in the street. Glory Girl tanking everything never staying close while I threw cards and moved nimbly to keep her from getting her hands on me again. With each pass we picked up a bit more of the others fighting style but little changed in the stalemate between us.

She was good. Despite her well known temper, it never completely owned her. A few minor lapses in judgment aside, she didn't forget about the cops at one end and tried to keep the fight away from them. Which led to another change in her actions.

Rumors followed capes like a stalker, and Brockton Bay was no exception. Most of them ridiculous but if you put enough of them together, you can find the grain of truth which spawned them.

One rumor I heard on the street said Glory Girl's sister, Panacea, routinely patched up criminals Glory Girl tangled with. Easy enough for a _traiteur_ of her level. Handy for a cape who could dead lift a cement mixer and make it look easy. Several mentioned that if anyone at the Protectorate knew just how many times, or how hard, Glory Girl routinely beat up the people she brought in, they'd probably have either forced her into the Wards, or worse. So now that we had an audience it limited how hard she could come at me depriving her of more options.

Likewise I wasn't going all out either. Sticking mostly to my playing cards and reflexes. Which seemed to annoy her greatly. Even limited to the ground, I was faster and had the advantage of projectiles. Sure, she could take it and was stronger, but that did little good when you couldn't get your hands on your target. Currently, we were fairly evenly matched. But all things come to an end, and as the fight dragged on, her frustration continued to mount until she finally cracked.

At some point she noticed my balance wasn't what it was at the start. With a burst of speed she closed the distance catching me in the stomach. I didn't even see it coming until it was too late. All I could do was take the hit, while charging my glove like I had my boot with enough energy to return the favor.

I went flying one way, while she went the other. Of the two of us, she got the better end of the exchange.

Glory Girl's flight ended faster than mine. Her feet broke asphalt creating two shallow trenches on either side of a third made by her hand to help slow her down. The end result was Glory Girl coming out of a crouch like a boss, boots crunching broken pavement as she walked toward me again.

Which, admittedly, was a lot cooler than kneeling on the street in front of a pool of blood I'd just put there after having been ragdoll thrown across said street. She could give Buyou Amos a run for his money when she was pissed.

Her conflicted face told me she was worried she'd might have gone too far, but that slowly changed to determined when I rose to my feet.

Spitting the little bit of blood left onto the street, I smirked saying, "You're going to have to hit me harder than that if you want Gambit to stay down."

"That can be arranged," she returned. Giving credit where it was due she looked pretty intimidating as she readied herself. Would have made a great poster for New Wave's marketing department, if Glory Girl ever wanted to up her image.

"You want to kick this up a nickel?" I drawled. Moving so as to present as little of a target as possible, I slowly pulled my staff from my coat. Extending it and giving it a bit of a spin I let it rest at my side.

Smirking, I continued, "Alright, _mon'amie_. I'm your player and that's just my game."

The silence between lasted for a moment, like a scene in a spaghetti western. The night was fairly quiet without us fighting. The dark around us strobed in blues and whites from the squad cars lights. Headlights from those two cars illuminating the buildings on either side of Glory Girl.

Looking over her shoulder I noticed several more things. One of them being two police officers turn to look at each other, then turn back to us.

Unable to help myself considering our audience, I relaxed. Folding my staff back up, and putting it away. Glory Girl's confusion turned into a snarl when I leaned forward slightly, lazily crooking my finger at her to take her best shot.

Like when she hit me a moment ago, she shot forward closing ground fast. I let her, never moving an inch.

"Glory Girl!"

Seeing the look of triumph in her eye's I doubted there were many things that could have gotten through to her at this moment. One of her teammates probably, but not many others. However, when someone like our new arrival shouts, even villains who didn't like him tended to listen.

As I learned from fighting her, interia was a thing. Yet Glory Girl still managed to pull back just short of plowing through me.

"Armsmaster," she said.

Up close, and outside the confines of the PRT building, I had to say Armsmaster was even more imposing than the last time I saw him. The weight of his armor seemed to reverberate in the now quiet street with each step he took toward us. As if a mountain of metal wielding a halberd was slowly approaching us.

Still flat footed, it affected Glory Girl more than me. Then again, I watched him arrive and wasn't as surprised.

"Would you please stop fighting my newest," Armsmaster said before turning to look directly at me. "Probationary Ward?"

Keeping my smirk in place, I winked at Glory Girl when she spun to face me.

Half shouting, she asked, " _You're_ a Ward?"

"Probationary Ward," Armsmaster smoothly corrected. "Very probationary."

"Oui," I answered, not bothering to wipe away the slight trail of blood ticking the side of my mouth. "Didn't you get the memo? They say Gambit's a hero now."

"You said you were a villain!"

"Considering you were stalking me, I was actually calling you the villain, _chérie._ "

"You are not a hero," Armsmaster corrected again. "Not yet, and not at all if there isn't a very good reason for why the two of you are tearing up the city."

"Just a little misunderstanding," I said.

"Explain."

Before I could say my piece, Glory Girl said hers.

"Armsmaster, I heard her plotting with someone on her cell. She was up to something so I followed her until I saw her set up to stop the police from capturing that car."

"See, like I said. Just a little misunderstanding. I was actually trying to stop the car for the police," I corrected. "Which, I did. Not exactly how I planned on doing it, but still. That is what a Ward does, no? Help the police?"

"You are not rated for patrol and have no authority to assist," Armsmaster noted. "Much less to do either alone without supervision or without Consol's permission. But that is something we'll deal with later."

"We'll see about that," Glory Girl spat. "I think that carjacker you almost killed is going to have something different to say about all this."

A short flight over to the upturned car ended in a shout of surprise.

"Glory Girl?" Armsmaster asked neutrality.

"He's gone but, where? How? He was unconscious when I checked on him!"

Keeping a straight face, I shrugged when Armsmaster turned to me.

"Who started the fight?"

"She did," Glory Girl said, pointing at me.

"That's actually not true," I couldn't help correcting. "She attacked first."

Mouth open to refute, Glory Girl exalted noisily instead realizing I was right.

Behind me, the bulb of the sole street light still standing in our arena blew out. It was surprising really it was even still standing, considering the damage. Same could have been said for the buildings around us. All of them showed damage from the fight. Holes from my cards, and a few from Glory Girl's body still easily visible thanks to the squad cars. Armsmasters visor seemed to take it all in.

"I see," he sighed. Turning to the two PRT grunts behind him, he said, "We'll settle this back at Headquarters. Standard Protocol."

"For Gambit, Sir?"

"For both of them."

The two agents turned to each other for a moment before nodding. "Yes sir."

"What?" Glory Girl shouted. "You can't be serious. You're going to foam me too?"

Turning to her, Armsmaster said, "Standard procedure when encountering capes fighting in the city where there is no clear hero, is to contain all involved to resolve the situation. So, yes Glory Girl, you as well. It will give you time to consider your actions tonight while waiting on your parents to pick you up."

Unlike Glory Girl I wasn't outraged at seeing the two armored agents walking toward us taking aim with the nozzles of their gear. On the contrary, I expected this would have been the likely end result for tonight.

Hand on my hip, I waited patiently as the agent in front of me approached. Since their arrival interrupted my fight with Glory Girl, I decided to end the night on a high note.

"I've never been sprayed by such a… well equipped individual before," I said earning another sigh from Armsmaster and a stunned look from Glory Girl. Batting my eyelashes at him I added, "Be gentle."

Instead of immediately hosing me down, the agent just stood there.

"Oh for fucks sake," his partner cursed. A woman by the voice. Turning away from Glory Girl, she activated her sprayer sending its contents racing toward me.

 _XxXGambitXxX_

Once the foam set I was moved to the back of the PRT van. Glory Girl joined me a couple of minutes later when negotiations with Armsmaster broke down. It was probably his idea we were only covered up to the shoulders and facing each other for the trip. It was the kind of thing Dennis said Armsmaster would do.

Other than Glory Girl embarrassed face silently glowering at me, not much to say about the trip except that it was all done pretty quickly. Before long we were at PRT headquarters, sprayed down with whatever it was that neutralized the foam, and kind of processed. While not stripped down, both of us were searched and personal belongings removed. A process which took longer for me than for Glory Girl.

"Like disarming a third world country," the PRT agent assigned to us muttered looking over the the collection of card decks I had left, a dozen throwing knives, my staff, a pair of foldable batons, a few small tools, pepper spray, brass knuckles, a leather sap, five one-hundred dollar bills, and other bits I generally kept on me when working.

"Be prepared," I said, quoting one of the oldest Girl Scout Mottos while giving a jaunty three finger salute. "Besides, a girl never knows when she's going to need the essentials."

The agent processing us silently held up the six inch knife I usually kept in my boot.

"What? A big city can be a dangerous place for a girl on her own."

Looking over the same pile, Glory Girl snarked, "No guns?"

"Guns are the tools of amateurs," I replied. "Or the desperate. Gambit is neither."

From there both Glory Girl and I were interviewed and questioned separately. Once finished, I was taken to a cell, where Glory Girl joined me a few minutes later.

"Now, both of you are going to sit here until your processed," Armsmaster informed us. "There will be no fighting and no usage of powers. If either of you use your powers in any way, this Agent will activate the foam sprayers and you will stay that way until I decide otherwise.

"I don't care what the issue is between you, but it ends now. Glory Girl is a hero from a respected organization. Gambit, while I have my doubts about your intentions, you are currently one of my Wards. I expect a great deal from my Wards, and twice that from you. Both of you are on the same side, so act like it and understand that if something like this had happened at a more public venue, like Arcadia, this situation would have ended very differently. So, work it out."

He didn't wait to hear what we'd say to his little speech. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Sighing greatly, Glory Girl flopped onto the cot on her side looking miserable. Taking the opposite one, I did the same, though without the angst but probably more pain.

I never liked awkward silences. Or silences of any kind, really. Reminded me too much of those days before I joined the Rats. However, what did a semi reforming villain say to a stalwart hero of justice?

So, what's flying like? Or maybe, I think we got off on the wrong fist. Err, foot. No, that's really not much better considering our brawl earlier. How about, Hi. I'm the devil cape Dennis and Assault are trying to sway to the light.

Lame.

"I'm in so much trouble," Glory Girl moaned.

Or we could go with that.

"I doubt that."

"Mom is going to be so pissed."

"You should relax. This really isn't as bad as you think it is."

"We're in a cell. I was arrested!"

"This isn't a jail cell. At least, not one for capes."

Rolling my eyes, I waved at our accommodations. "Judging by how hard you were swinging at me earlier, you could bend those bars and walk out of here if you wanted. As for me, do you really think that lock can stop my own power, or skills?"

She cocked an annoyed eyebrow at me.

"This cell is obviously symbolic," I said, continuing when she didn't say anything. "Most likely meant for situations like ours where the capes in question are not flight risks but still need to be held for a while."

"And the PRT agent standing by the switch to the foam sprayers?" Glory Girl asked.

"Insurance incase Armsmaster misjudged us and we decided to start fighting again."

"And what makes you think all that?"

"Even if the PRT wanted to press charges against you, what do they have? Fighting? You're a cape, its what capes do. Destruction of property? Even I know no one really cares about the Docks and no civilians were hurt. Besides, you heard what Armsmaster said. You're a respected hero from an friendly hero group. Worse case we sit here for awhile before someone from your group comes to pick you up. Sitting here is about the only thing he can do to punish you for earlier."

"And what about you?" she asked. "You're not worried about any of this?"

"Not really," I answered casually. "He'll probably take the damages out of my Wards pay and it's not like I can't get more money if I need it."

"And how would you do that?"

"There are always opportunities, if one has a mind to go look for it."

"You're not reformed at all! I can't believe they would let you into the fucking Wards!" she hissed angrily, glaring at me.

"I know," I said smirking. "But, standards here are not what they were back in New Orleans. They let Clockblocker in, so why not Gambit?"

"Clockblocker has never put another Ward in the hospital!"

"If you needed to go to the hospital, why didn't you tell Armsmaster?"

"I don't, aggghhhh! You're… you're so infuriating! Actually, it's no wonder Dennis is infatuated with you!"

"Of course he is. I'm me, afterall," I said, smirking while trying to ignore how I felt. "And I'm pretty great."

The girl sighed, longsufferingly. "You are pretty good. Great? Too far. But it's not often I meet someone who can go toe-to-toe with me like that. And don't think I don't know you weren't going all out."

Nodding, I decided to give a little since she had. "Of course I wasn't, just as you weren't, and the same to you, _mon'amie_. I tend to avoid cape fights because most capes take things too seriously. If you're not enjoying the things you do, why do them, no?"

"Is that why you became a thief? Just like the rush of ruining other people's lives?" She asked pointedly. There wasn't much heat to it though.

"I don't think we know each other well enough for that sort of intimacy and Gambit doesn't do backstories. Ruins the mystic."

"Fair enough," Glory Girl snorted. "So, you're a Ward,"

"I'm in the program as a probationary ward," I corrected. "Armsmaster likes to be very clear on that point."

"A Ward. You."

"Yeah."

"Seriously. You. You're a Ward."

"So my contract says," I answered bemused. "If it makes you feel any better I have no intention of sitting for any photo shoots. Not really my style."

"It really doesn't."

"Didn't think so. Just thought I'd mention it."

"It's just," Glory Girl muttered seeming frustrated and annoyed. "You? A Ward? How? You're practically the poster girl for authority issues!"

"You're not wrong," I nodded.

"If half the things in your file are right then you're a criminal, not a hero."

"I never claimed to be a hero, _chérie_. Just that I'm in the Wards."

"You're a thief!"

"Gambit isn't just any thief," I said, mildly insulted. "I am a very good thief."

"You even admit it!"

"Why would I lie?" I asked. Not succeeding very well in keeping the smirk off my face judging by her expression.

"To screw with, quite literally, everyone," Glory Girl half shouted. "How could they let someone like you into the Wards"

"Well, you're not going to find Gambit on any team posters," I explained, relaxing as much as I could on the cot. "It's more of a part time arrangement between us."

"Not buying. You're telling me that the PRT let you see the other Ward's _faces?_ Not. Buying. It." Glory Girl snorted.

"I haven't even met any of them yet," I said. "Not officially, and certainly not unmasked except for the two we both know about. Although I do have to thank a certain someone later. If not for him, I probably never would have had this option."

Paleing slightly, Glory Girl quietly asked, "You don't mean…"

"The look on his face when he finds out is going to be very worth it," I chuckled. "I suppose I should thank you as well, since you're half the reason for my current circumstance. Would you like a picture when he finds out? Should make good blackmail material later when you want something from him."

Ignoring her eye roll, I said, "Look, we're going to be here for a while. A couple of hours most likely. Or until Armsmaster feels that we've learned our lesson about fighting each other in public. So relax."

"Relax?" Glory Girl snorted. "And what do you suggest we do, trapped in here for the next couple of hours?"

"Well, we could sit here brooding over things that we can't change, like you were earlier," I said. "Or we could trade stories."

"Trade stories."

"Sure. Tell me about Brockton Bay, and I'll tell you about New Orleans."

"Seriously?"

Smirking, I said, "You know you want to hear what Carnival is _really_ like."

 _XxXGambitXxX_

"... so I said, eleven hours? That's your problem, girl. You need to stay hydrated in a marathon."

Blushing, Glory Girl ducked into her hands, laughing but that wasn't anything compared to the laughter coming from the PRT agent assigned to watch us. She howled, half leaning against the wall to keep standing.

Which was the scene Assault and Clockblocker walked into.

"Not quite the scene I expected to see walking in here," Assault muttered.

"Did you expect us to be fighting?" Glory Girl asked.

"Assault was hoping," Clockblocker chuckled.

"Is time for our eviction?" I asked, turning toward them. "Or is it time for my strip search?"

Slowly looking Clockblocker up and down I added, "If you're thorough, _mon'ami,_ I might return the favor."

"So, that's how you shut him up," Assault laughed, shaking his head at Clock's frozen form. "Doubt Armsmaster will go for it, but still, good to know."

"I would pay to see it, if you were willing to even joke about my way of shutting him up, Assault."

"Well see," he said. "I'm sure an occasion will come up to make it work. The Director would probably dock my pay again, but it would be worth it. However, as amusing as it is to see Clockblocker tongue tied, we're here to tell you your time is served."

"Your sister's here for you, Glory Girl," Assault said before turning to me. "Need a ride home?"

"Non," I answered.

"How pissed is Mom?" Glory Girl asked Assault while the PRT agent unlocked our cell.

"That's your problem when you get home," Assault answered. "Unfortunately I'm pretty sure Armsmaster's already filled her in, but she's not the one to came to pick you up."

"Oh, I'm in so much trouble," she groused.

Following them down the halls, I asked, "What did Danny say?"

"From what I heard after Armsmaster told him who he was, Mr. Hebert's first question was, 'how much bail money do I need?' My source said the conversation went downhill from there."

"You suck so much," Glory Girl groused. "You're not even going to get into trouble for this?"

"Oh, I'm probably in for a long lecture. Maybe a guilt trip to two and possibly a lot of cursing," I said casually as we approached the front doors and my freedom. "I'm actually looking forward to it. You know, for a straight arrow, he knows a lot of swear words and has very inventive ways of stringing them together."

Following us, Clockblocker just silently shook his head. Being in costume, he really couldn't say much, but I'm sure I was in for it later. The conversation didn't pick up again until after we got our confiscated possessions back, minus most of my weapons as they were not 'Ward Approved', and exited the building.

"Oh, crap," Glory Girl muttered on seeing her sister waiting for her.

Panacea, or Amy Dallon as she wasn't in costume, stood arms cross and tapping her foot next to a nice car. I couldn't see her very well from here, but she didn't look happy. Glory Girl's shoulders hunched up a bit.

"Well, I guess I should get back so Mom can yell at me," she said before turning to me. A strange smirk on her face. "I still don't trust you."

"I'd think less of you if you did," I laughed.

"I'll catch you later, Gambit."

"Only in your sweetest dreams, _ma chère_."

Rolling her eyes at my blatant trolling, she walked toward her sister. If looks could kill, the glower directed at me probably would have killed me twice.

"Now I have reason to think Amy doesn't like me,"

"I told you a quick way to get on her bad side was to pick a fight with Vicky," Clockblocker chuckled.

"Why doesn't anyone believe me when I say I didn't start that fight?"

The blare of a car horn drew our attention back to the street. Amy and Glory Girl were already gone, which just left the jeep sitting at the curb being the source.

"Am I seeing things, or is that really a pink jeep with purple flames?" Assault asked.

"There's my ride," I said. Turning back to the duo I gave them a parting wink. "Until next time, boys."

Walking away, I didn't catch whatever it was Assault said to Clockblocker but I had a pretty good guess. Instead I casually approached the jeep until I could get into it.

Sitting in the driver's seat, Jess smirked at me. Dressed in a smart red dress and looking like they were out on the town before picking me up. The only thing that detracted from that image was the small bandage covering the cut bisecting their eyebrow.

"You're a fucking bitch, you know that cunt?"

"And here I was worried you didn't have a good time tonight," I laughed.

"Shit, you want to show me a good time? Come with me to Palaquine. We'll party till dawn and really give the PRT something to lock us up for."

"Sorry, I can't," I said regretfully. "I'm sure Danny's worried about me. I should get back and let him know the PRT let me go and explain what happened. Besides, he was supposed to have made lasagna tonight."

"Fuck that, wait. Store bought or homemade?"

"Homemade."

"So, there's homemade lasagna at your house?"

"Pretty sure Sam's still busy hiding the goods we liberated earlier, so, yeah."

"Fuck it, we're going to your house."


	40. Gambling Time: Chapter 6

**Gambling Time: Chapter 6**

"That one."

Picking up the selected cup showed nothing except bare wood.

"Sorry, _cher_ , you lose again," I said picking up the right cup to show the small cat's eye marble.

"You're not cheating, are you?" Jean asked playfully.

"I prefer honest games of chance," I answered before shuffling the cups again. "But that's me. You're right to ask. Shell games are notorious short cons."

"I still say she's cheating," Mike said goodnaturedly.

"You wouldn't be the first to say so."

Sitting at the table just a bit to my right with one hand propping her head, Jean's eyes shifted trying to track the cup that she thought hid the marble.

"Sounds like a sore spot," Jean needled.

Shrugging I said, "I've had to correct a few people that I am an honest gambler, once or twice."

"Oh, I'd like to hear one of those stories," Clarissa chuckled.

"Not sure my probation officer would approve."

The snort next to me came from Dennis and pretty much told everyone at the table what he thought of my comment.

"Maybe another time then?" I asked.

"Like when the statute of limitations is up?" Jean chuckled behind her hand.

"Sounds right," I answered knowingly and earning a half choked off cough from the closeted Ward. "Going back to what I was saying, sure, I could palm the marble so that no matter what cup you pick, you'd lose. That's actually a very common trick for these kinds of games. There are other tricks though. I could use shills to keep the mark distracted, as an example, or other such deceptions but what fun would any of that be?"

"What do you mean," Jean asked. "You wouldn't lose."

"I don't mind losing," I explained. "It's part of the game. If there isn't risk, it's not exciting and anything that isn't exciting isn't worth my time."

Mike nodded while picking up another empty cup. Shaking his head, he put the cup back letting me shuffle again. "Yeah, but I thought that was the point of the game? Taking some suckers money?"

"You are not wrong," I said, pushing the cups toward Clarissa. "But despite its well earned reputation as being a con to fleece gullible people, shell games are at their heart games of skill."

"Even if it's played straight it still seems more like a game of luck to me," Clarissa muttered, picking the middle cup and losing again.

"Luck is always a factor, sure," I agreed. "But ultimately this game is a contest of someone's flair and agility versus another's visual acuity and the science of memory. Developing these skills won't guarantee the outcome, but it helps no matter which side of the table you are on. That's why it's called gambling."

Sliding the cups around a bit slower, I tried explaining.

"Half the game is showmanship. A bit of flair and presentation makes the game more exciting and draws in the player. Also serves to distract the mark in hopes of them losing track of the right cup. Turns a dull game into something exciting and fun for the handler, the player, and the crowd."

"What does the crowd have to do with it?"

"No game is fun without spectators."

Following the slowed cups, Jean frowned slightly. "That sounds a lot harder than you're making it look."

"You're not wrong," I said half agreeing with her comment. "But that's where practice comes in and that too, is the game."

The cups slid easily over the library table as I wove them around each other. It was a tricky thing, keeping the marble from making too much noise while also shuffling the cups in a way that flowed smoothly and was entertaining to watch.

"Not easy, but that's where skill comes in," I said, bringing in all the cups before pushing them forward into a line flawlessly. "Add in some slight of hand when shuffling the cups, a few words at the right moment for distraction, and adding a personal touch of flair will often do the job better than cheating ever would."

"It _is_ neat watching you do that. Even when it's not my turn,," Clarissa conceded earning a nod from both Mike and Jean.

"You get it," I chuckled. "That's what the game should be. Entertaining and fun for everyone. Besides, cheating is redundant when your opponent is already looking left, while you're going right. Which, if you're doing it right, is in essence the whole point of the game in the first place."

"I still think the whole point is to take some suckers money," Mike muttered, shaking his head as he guessed wrong again.

"There's a reason why it's referred to as a short-con," I pointed out. "Sure, desperate grinders can make a living doing this but it's very unlikely you're going to see a large payout. Much less be worth all the effort you put into it. It's just not viable long term unless you're using it as part of a larger play. Even then it's best used as a pinch-hit when needing to bridge one con to the next. If I wanted your money, we'd play poker. Now that's an honest trade."

The librarian very loudly, yet quietly, shushed us again. Looking to my left where Dennis was sitting next to me showed a tally of hash marks on the side of his homework page totalling twenty seven. Twenty eight now.

Dennis sighed, scratching in the latest slash. "As much as I hate to be the guy that murders fun, this is study hall. Ms. Granger's given me detention with Mr. Wilks for a lot less than talking loud."

Looking a slightly worried, Mike nodded. "Good point. I need to do that essay for Mr. Becker at some point anyway."

"Especially since it's due next Monday," Clarissa muttered. "And it's not likely we're going to get it done this weekend unless we don't go to the party."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Jean grumbled. "I've been looking forward to it all week. I heard there's going to be a keg and everything."

"Man, I hope so," Mike whispered while getting this books.

Doing the same, Jean asked, "You're still coming to the meeting tonight, right Renée?"

"Unless something happens again, that's the plan."

"Awesome," Jean said ignoring my comment. I did get an eye roll from Dennis though, so at least someone appreciated it even if he seemed distracted with something. "The girls are super excited about it."

"I still don't see why," I chuckled.

"Maybe because since you've started hanging out with them you helped two of them get badges, talked Triumph in to letting them tie him up, and got Assault to show up at one of their birthday parties?" Clarissa asked trying to keep her voice, and amusement, down. "Not to mention saved Dinah from being kidnapped. It's all Jessica talks about anymore."

Rolling my eyes I reminded them of a few points. "Perhaps, but I have been told quite sternly that I am not allowed to do such things anymore unless asked, much less talk about them. Hence, the probation. Ask the PRT, they'll tell you the same thing."

"Maybe," Mike chuckled. "But rumors are all over the PHO that you're a Ward now."

"Probationary Ward," I corrected before sighing. "I'm not a real Ward. How many times do I have to say it before people start believing me?"

"At least once more," Dennis half joked though his heart didn't seem to be in it.

Rolling my eyes, this time at the reference, I settled for shaking my head. "Gambit is no hero."

"If you didn't want to be a hero, why sign up?" Jean asked, not shocked but genuinely curious.

"I didn't want to go to jail," I answered. "Or spend the rest of my life on the run like I had been up to now. Community Service and probation was the compromise. I tried being neutral and ended up labeled as a villain anyway. I tried hiding who I am and look where that got me?"

"I don't think you're supposed to talk about this," Dennis warned quietly.

Nodding to his point, I continued lowering my voice. "Anyway, I'll be there tonight. Just don't expect any heroes to join me. Maybe a couple of PRT guards to make sure I don't blow up the kids, but no heroes."

"Who cares about them?" Clarissa chuckled. Thankfully letting the prior topic drop. "They weren't invited anyway."

"Right?" Jean added, swinging her pack over her shoulder. "See you tonight, Renée."

"Bye," I said, waving at the departing trio as they disappeared into the stacks, whispering to themselves. About what, I didn't need to guess. This conversation, or my tussles with Glory Girl. Maybe even both.

While word about what had happened wasn't exactly news, it still managed to do the rounds here at Arcadia. Victoria and I had taken a bit of a hit over the debacle in our own ways.

For her it was being hot headed and jumping to conclusions. Something she seemed well known for even before the cafeteria incident. That in itself didn't seem to be new so her reactions tended to be more along the lines of exasperation and teasing. Except from her sister.

As for me, it was fighting a well respected hero who happened to also be a peer. Glory Girl had her own fan base and being unmasked meant people got to know the girl under the cape. I was also technically outed but without the support that established heroine had here. Not that my old support base would have done me many favors with these types anyway.

So for me, it was a mixed bag. Clarissa and Jean were both vets of the scouts with younger sisters still in the program. After everything, that was really the only thing that allowed people like Mike to even try to get to know me. On the other side there were people like Amy Dallon who really didn't like the fact I fought with Victoria. Thankfully dirty looks and glares was all I had to deal with so far. Especially since she was giving the same looks to Victoria, though her sister's puppy dog eyes tended to end it fairly quickly. Not something I could pull off.

Neither of us really wanted other people to make a drama out of something that both of us were perfectly willing to let lie. That didn't stop the gossip though. Just stopped people from talking about it where either of us could hear them. Something I'd already been dealing with ever since my first day here and it was obviously old hat for Glory Girl.

"You know, I'm pretty sure that teaching people dirty gambling tricks doesn't count toward your community service," Dennis whispered.

"It really should," I chuckled. "Sadly, I'm pretty sure you're right. I'll have to make due with the Girl Scouts instead. That does count according to the woman they assigned to make sure I actually do any of it."

"Who drew the short straw," he asked.

"Ms...Wilson? No that's not right. Wilcox, that's it. Ms. Wilcox."

"Older woman, looks alot like a thin Ms. Piggy with an even worse attitude?"

"That's her."

"My condolences," Dennis said, patting my shoulder. "She's the one Armsmaster threatens me with when he wants me to behave myself."

"She didn't seem that bad when I talked with her this morning," I noted. "Very business like and blunt, but not bad."

"Wait a while," Dennis warned. "I've only had to deal with her a couple of times but that was enough. Recently when I pass her in the halls the look she gives me is like I'm was the devil's spawn or something."

Not saying anything, I just turned slightly to stare at him.

After a moment he chuckled. "Okay, point taken but I haven't done anything _lately._ Well, not to her."

Not debating it, I shrugged saying only, "We'll see."

In truth, I wasn't worried. According to a conversation I overheard a few cubicles down from where I waited for Ms. Wilcox earlier, she had recently developed a drinking problem. Most likely because her husband was supposedly having an affair. Assuming the information panned out I was sure we could come to an arrangement. I didn't particularly feel well disposed to cheating lovers and it wouldn't take much effort to either find evidence, or manufacture it, to embarrass him in a way that would put the situation in Ms. Wilcox's favor. Nothing quite salved a wounded heart, like revenge and there were a lot of options out there for a woman scorned who was willing to trade favors.

If the information I overheard turned out to be wrong though, I'd have to find something else. Everyone had a vice or a need and usually were not as good at hiding it from others as they were from themselves. Just a matter of time and effort to see which way it would go.

Breaking me from my thoughts, Dennis asked, "How many hours did Armsmaster give you for the other night?"

"Fourty."

"Ouch."

"I was told by one of the troopers this morning it could have been a lot worse but since Brandish's 'talk' with Deputy Director Renick, they could only really give me a slap on the wrist since they couldn't touch Glory Girl."

Nodding thoughtfully Dennis said, "True, and fourty hours isn't bad for wrecking half a block."

" _C'est donné,_ " I agreed.

Seeming to get my meaning, Dennis rolled his eyes going back to his half finished homework. "Stop teasing me with french, I really need to get this done. Not going to have time for it later."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he answered. Something was off with him but I couldn't put my finger on it. "Have to go to work after school."

"Huh," I nodded. Wasn't that interesting. I suppose it could have been a coincidence.

But of course it wasn't.

Despite his own admonishment at my trying to distract him, Dennis wasn't writing anything. Instead, sitting at the table just holding his pencil and staring at his paper. Something he'd been doing for most of our study period while I was entertaining Clarissa, Jean, and Mike.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He eventually muttered.

"Sure, _cher_."

"The other night," he began hesitantly. "It's about that thing with Glory Girl."

"Okay. What did you want to know?"

Almost as if he didn't want to ask, but seemingly couldn't help himself, Dennis eventually managed, "You set her up, didn't you?"

 _Ah,_ I thought, nodding. _That's what has been bothering him today._

"Why do you ask?" I asked to buy a moment to think about how I wanted to play this.

"Look, Renée, I get you have trust issues," Dennis said not looking at me. "But I'm not asking for them. I'm asking for _me_."

That put a different spin on it. Reluctantly I nodded. "Yeah."

Turning quickly, he looked into my eyes. "You admit it."

"You asked for you," I said. "I might not tell you everything, Dennis, but I don't want to lie to you."

An appreciative look appeared only to vanish when he asked, "Why did you do it?"

"I had to do something," I answered honestly. "The situation between us was only going to get worse until one of us did something to deescalate it. She wasn't going to do it, so I did."

"You could have left her alone."

"She was stalking me while eavesdropping on my phone calls. I didn't push this."

"But manufacturing a crime she could catch you doing?"

"Something like that," I evaded. "She wanted something on me, I gave it to her. We spared for a while and then talked. It worked. She's pretty much left us alone all day."

Looking into his eyes, I could see the dots connecting. My explanation seemed to be the final bits he needed for whatever was bothering him. Dennis knew, or had suspected something was up. I don't know what kind of resources he had access to, but apparently he'd picked up quite enough. Whatever it was it was like pieces of a puzzle coming together, forming a picture Dennis obviously didn't like. I didn't have to wait long to find out though.

"You didn't manufacture anything," he whispered half to himself. "You _were_ up to something. That whole thing was a distraction for something else. You're running a con and used Glory Girl as a shill."

"Oh, well done," I whispered back, unable, and unwilling, to stop the slight smile forming. People seriously underestimated Dennis. Behind the sarcasm and jokes was an quick witted intelligence that few could match. I should have known if anyone figured out what I was doing, it would have been him. "Out of curiosity, what gave me away?"

"Dammit, Renée, this is serious!"

Letting my amusement fade, I purposely lowered my voice. "I see that. What I don't see is why this is a problem."

"Your covering up something," Dennis hissed back. Thankfully quieter than a moment ago.

"Still not seeing the problem."

"The problem is that whatever it is you're covering up is probably illegal."

"Of course it is but you knew what you were getting into with me, _chéri_ ," I whispered flatly. "And if you didn't, you should have. I haven't tried to hide who I am from you Dennis. I've been very honest about it actually."

Looking as if I'd betrayed him somehow, he whispered, "Assault's defended you. Told everyone that they shouldn't judge you by what was in your file. _I've_ defended you."

"They _shouldn't_ trust what's in my file, it's very inaccurate. I wasn't even involved in half of what they think I was."

"And the other half?" he asked exasperated at my point.

"A girl has to eat," I answered uncaringly. "And I'm not targeting anyone that doesn't deserve or can't afford it. If anyone knew even a quarter of what went into those jobs they'd be shocked with how much work they were. Trust me when I say I earned my dinner. Besides, I'd be impressed if they could even prove it, much less seriously link me to them."

"So not the point, Renée," Dennis half growled while lowering his head into his hands. "You can't do that kind of thing here."

"Well, obviously…"

"Renée…"

Leaning back slightly at his hiss, I stopped talking. Whatever he was thinking, he kept to himself now, just staring at me like I stole something from him.

I suppose, in a way, I had.

This was always going to be a thing. I knew it even before he hit on me at the Hard Luck. We were, at our cores, on opposite sides.

Maybe I was too jaded. Maybe his rose tinted glasses were too colorful. This conversation though proved that neither of us really understood the other. At the very least, we were very different people.

He was a hero. A straight arrow for the most part with views to match. If he'd ever broken any laws before, I'd be shocked. No, he fought the bad guys. Kept them from hurting or disturbing the good people of the world. Stood against the different shades of evil that existed out there in the black and white image of the city that the PRT liked to paint.

I, on the other hand, was a thief. The kind of person he protected others from. I stole to survive but mostly because it was the quickest way to achieve means. Also, it was fun and exciting which was always a bonus. Our different experiences led us to see the same things with different eyes. Which brought us to completely different conclusions and, like now, different sides.

How'd that quote go? The ethical person knows it's never okay to do wrong, where a moral person actually wouldn't. Looking at Dennis I think that was what our current issues boiled down to. No matter the circumstances I would always try to do right, but would do what needed to be done, where as he wouldn't stray. Probably half of what I liked about him was that. Even if, like now, it made things awkward between us.

In the end, I guess the result of 'us' was always going to be the same. Well, if it was going to go this way, might as well do it right.

"Renée…"

" _Non_ ," I interrupted him. "I get it. When are you supposed to be at work?"

"That's not…" Dennis seemed to wilt at my raised eyebrow. Even he could see where this was going now. "...five. I only have to be there for a few hours. It's a training day."

That matched up.

"Look, I'm just trying to understand," he tried again. "They already suspect you of a ton of stuff. What happens when you finally get caught?"

"Why do you think I took the plea deal?"

"Renée, that doesn't protect you if you keep doing stuff!" Dennis said louder than he probably intended. Wincing at the Librarian shushing us again, he continued much lower. I debated adding to the tally before deciding now wasn't the time. "You said things were different for you now, better. Why would you do something like this?"

"Are you really sure you want to know?" I asked quietly. Shaking my head I continued before he could say anything. "Doesn't matter. What does matter is that we have a choice to make."

"I'm not going to say anything about this."

"I wouldn't put you in that position Dennis. You can tell them whatever you want to. That's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what choice is there to make?"

"I am who I am," I said. Picking up my pack, I slung it over my shoulder. A look at the school clock showed the last period was only a minute from being over. "Just like you are who you are. I don't expect you to change for me, but have no doubt, _mon'ami,_ I'm not going to change for you. So the question is, can we handle this, or can't we?"

"Hey, where are you going?" he whispered loudly as I started walking away.

"Schools out," I answered just as the bell rang. "And so am I."

 _XxX Gambit XxX_

Keeping my muscles relaxed wasn't easy after talking to Dennis. Even a couple of hours later. Not easy, but doable, I thought as I sat with the soles of my feet touching each other. Moving one leg, then the other, I slowly moved until I was resting with legs pointed in opposite directions before twisting myself one way, and then the other. I was going to need to be well limbered if the next half hour went the way I figured it was going to.

Spandex wasn't at the top of my fashion choices for working out but it was what was available when I arrived. However, I decided that while I could live with the bright pink leggings, there wasn't any way in hell I was putting on the top. Instead, I wore only my sports bra. I wasn't Glory Girl afterall. I didn't need to worry about wardrobe malfunctions from being too top heavy. Just the opposite, I was built to move.

The surprised grunt behind me as I leaned over my leg with my foot resting against the left side of my head told me I had an audience. It was quickly followed by a surprise, yet oddly happy feminine squeal when I moved my hair out of my eyes.

Taking a good look at just who was watching showed Vista and Gallant standing at the door. While Vista looked happy to see me, Gallant just looked stunned. Probably didn't understand how I managed to move my hair with my hand, considering my current position.

That and like Dennis, he wasn't expecting me to be here.

"Gambit!"

"Bonjour, Vista."

"The rumors true? You're a Ward now?" She asked quickly making her way to me. "You're training with us too?"

"Something like that," I answered.

Like Gallant, she was wearing what I could only think was the Protectorates answer to a training mask. It looked similar to what I normally wore, but instead of leaving the face exposed, it covered the upper part with white opaque lenses over the eyes. Snug enough that it shouldn't shift with quick movements and colored in their unique color scheme. In Vista's case, green and white complete with wavy lines matching the rest of their spandex outfits.

There wasn't a mask waiting for me when I got my stuff, though that didn't surprise me. Just confirmed what today was going to be like.

"That's so cool," Vista muttered as I untwisted myself into a more human shape. "I wish I was that limber without using my powers."

"Anyone can do it," I answered, smiling while slowly moving my ankle to the back of my head. Something that seemed to do funny things to Gallants breathing, by the sound of it "Just takes patience and practice to get your muscles used to it. The key is to relax and not overdo it. Pulling muscles you didn't even know you had, isn't any fun."

"Can you teach me?"

"Sure, _mon'amie_ ," I answered the hopeful girl. "I'll run you through a few things before Armsmaster gets here."

I'd just finished teaching Vista basic calisthenics when the hero showed up with the rest of the Wards. Clock seemed to tense up when he noticed me but other than that, made no indication he was surprised to see me. He also didn't say anything either, but I figured it would go this way earlier. The others didn't seem to care one way or another aside from being curious about the new girl.

Unsurprising, they were all in training masks and no one other than me got a hot pink color scheme. Which was fine. Gambit could work with anything and judging by the head shifts my way from the guys, I made this look good. As everyone's attention, for the most part, turned to Armsmaster I followed suit ignoring Clock as much as he was ignoring me.

"Training," the power armored hero stated. I guess I shouldn't be surprised he was in his, but I kind of was. Now that I thought about it, I couldn't recall ever even hearing a story about him without it."Vista, Shadow Stalker, and Kid Win; proceed with you're normal routines. Aegis, Clockblocker, Gallant, Browbeat, and Gambit; with me."

A flash of anger was quickly overridden by disappointment from the youngest ward. The guy I assumed was Kid Win shrugged before moving over to the speed bag. Shadow Stalker though snarled looking disgusted before stomping over to the weights.

Giving the downhearted girl a pat on the shoulder, I moved over to the others. Armsmaster led our group over to one of the large mats before turning around crossing his arms with his halberd in front of him.

Yeah, that wasn't intimidating. Especially since I didn't have many weapons on me.

"After going over the data from our last encounter with the Undersiders I noticed an area that several are lacking in. While it is safe to assume Grue can see through his own power, our conclusion is that the others cannot. We believe that this is why there are areas inside his power that he doesn't cover. This means close combat will be key to taking one, or all of them down. To this end, today you're going to work on that."

"I want to see a marked improvement from all of you. To help with this, Gambit will be assisting by being your opponent. Questions?"

"Why Gambit?" Gallant asked.

 _Careful, cher_ , I couldn't help thinking. _Someone's going to think you might actually like me_.

"Gambit has spent the last two years dealing with persons of, lets say, a questionable nature," Armsmaster answered. "She has experience dealing with that environment and the type of fighting you will most likely face from opponents such as the Undersiders."

A nice way to say I fight dirty and for keeps. Seeing Gallant nod unquestionably though ended any thoughts he might have about hitting a girl. Or maybe it was just me. Hard to tell and I didn't really care that much to be honest. It's not like I didn't see this coming and from his perspective, I kinda deserved it.

"Uh, really?" the guy with a dark blue color scheme half asked, half mumbled.

"Is there a problem, Browbeat?"

"It's just," he started to say before trailing off just looking back and forth between Armsmaster to me.

"It's fine," I said drawing attention to me. At least there was one gentleman in the group. Like Gallant, Aegis didn't seem to mind sparring. Even seemed a bit excited about it. Clock, however, didn't look happy, but he hadn't voiced against it either which left Browbeat the odd man out. "Who goes first?"

"Clo…"

"I will," Gallant interrupted, walking toward the large mat Armsmaster was standing in front of.

For just a moment, Clockblocker looked like he was going to say something. One look from Armsmaster though silenced him.

"Fine by me," I said, Stepping on the same mat with the silver spandex hero. "Powers or no?"

He seemed to take in my appearance for a second before a barely there smirk appeared momentarily before vanishing. "This is a cape fight."

"So it is."

"Rules," Armsmaster barked. "Stay on the mat. Responsible use of powers. The fight will continue until one participant forfeits, is knocked down, touches the outer boundary, injury, or the two minute time limit expires. Each match will have three rounds."

Ignoring the weights, Shadow Stalker instead sat on the bench watching a little too intently. Vista was wringing an unused jump rope in her hands while Kid Win also ignored his workout in favor of watching worryingly. If that was for me, or Gallant, I couldn't tell.

Aegis, Clock, and Browbeat also watched, but with a different mix of emotions as one of them was going next. Though unless I was misreading things, Clock didn't look very enthusiastic about it. If the truth was told, even if it was only to myself, neither was I. It wasn't a fair fight by any means.

"Begin."

Starting off first, Gallant leaned back to through a blob of something at my face. His second attack was a thrust of his other hand sending a tight beam of light at me.

Before the second attack even started I was already moving under the cannon ball of light. Letting it sail over me, I quickly twisted away from the beam. My following legsweep sent the surprised Ward onto his back.

"Point; Gambit." Armsmaster stated emotionlessly.

Straightening up, I waited silently for Gallant to get to his feet. The next round went just as quickly, and ended the same. Surprisingly, instead of calling the match, we kicked off the third round.

"Begin."

The teen was fuming as we started and his temper wasn't doing him any favors. Unlike prior rounds he didn't start off with powers. He charged.

A high kick showed he wasn't channeling his girlfriend though. A forearm block put him inside what would normally be my guard. A low kick of his own aimed at my leg missed when I twisted in mid air, bringing back my left foot before striking with my right.

My aim was slightly off hitting him in the shoulder instead of the chin. It was still enough to steal his balance and almost send him onto his back. In contrast, I easily landed back on my feet.

Weary, the teen hero tried closing again. Despite my two quick successes Gallant's skill was visible. It showed he was training, but not very constantly or hard. I'd easily put him on par with hired muscle I used to contract when I needed such things. Which wasn't a joke. However he was dealing with a handicap he didn't realize he had.

He was used to fighting in power armor and it was clear to see that fact was messing with him. Had he been wearing his armor, my tactics wouldn't have been nearly as effective requiring my staff at the least to counter, or put him down. He seemed to expect to be able to handle hits, but then found he couldn't. I'd seen similar mistakes in capes back in New Orleans and like then, I didn't let that bother me as we circled each other.

He'd either figure it out, or he wouldn't. Neither was my concern.

This time Gallant came at me with a series of punches meant to push me backward. A tactic that I bet worked for him in the past, but even with how strong he was naturally, it wasn't enough to push me very far.

Instead I let him swing, alternating deflecting them with my own forearms and feet. Thinking he had me on the ropes, He send a couple more powered cannon balls at me before suddenly lunging forward.

A backward lean to avoid one turned into a twist that reset my stance to avoid the other. Like before, the concussive blasts backwashed toward me from the edge of our arena. Not being close enough to do more than reinforce how close the shielded boundary was.

Not really feeling like wrestling today, I easily dodged out of his path before he even realized his target was gone. A quick strike to the back of his knee sent him to the ground letting him know that fact.

Managing to catch himself on his knee before he ended up on his face saved him the match, but wasn't quick enough to stop my next move, which cost him.

Straddling his back, I grabbed his head with my left hand before putting one of my cards to his throat. His color paled almost as quickly as my card flared to life.

"By the way you were eyeing me earlier I bet you didn't think I had any on me when you said this was a cape fight, did you?"

"Where the hell did you pull that from?"

"Somewhere you're not allowed to touch, _mon cher_ ," I whispered into his ear like a lover. "Even if you didn't already have a girlfriend."

"Point; Gambit," Armsmaster emotionlessly barked.

Letting him go, I let my card slightly tickle his jugular before casually tossing it away from where anyone was standing. It softly exploded in a puff of confettied cardboard.

Retaking my starting point, I looked preditorily at the remaining Wards seeing my unsaid message was received.

"Next," I said not hiding my smirk while Gallant rejoined his teammates.

"I'll go," the rust colored Ward said clearly before stepping into the ring.

"Very well, Aegis. Proceed."

"Powers?" I lazily asked.

"No projectiles and I'll stay on the ground," Aegis answered as if we were discussing the weather. "If that's alright."

His confidence was clear to see, as was why he was considered the favorite of the team on the PHO. He had that little extra something that I bet a lot of people responded to. Then again, it was hard not to appreciate a confident opponent and if his rep was to be believed, he earned a bit of confidence.

"Fair enough," I smiled, showing my appreciation for his tease about my fight with Glory Girl.

"Begin." Armsmaster barked.

Learning from Gallant's unfortunate showing, Aegis approached cautiously. Obviously taking my reflexes and speed into account as we circled each other. Stance wide, but balanced. Arms up but not overtly aggressive. Like Gallant he was slightly trained.

As I knew he would, he struck first. A feint with his foot I didn't fall for before starting a series of punches that left my arms tingling from how hard he hit.

Realizing I couldn't take that kind of abuse, I started dodging his attacks. When I couldn't, I struck his arms or legs in a way that adjusted his strikes so I could. Perceiving a weakness, he pressed his attacks. Coming at me faster and hitting slightly harder.

While he had reach and shear power behind him, I had speed and that was the only thing keeping me in the fight. I had to quickly give up on deflecting his attacks after one almost knocked me down. In contrast, my own attacks barely seemed to affect him which unfortunately put me entirely on the defensive. He was also maneuvering me into one of the corners. As the space I could move became more restricted, he pressed even harder trying to ring me out. When my heel was only inches away, he moved to finish me.

Boxed in, I did what I could to avoid the lighting fast jabs but knew it was only a matter of time before Armsmaster called me out. Which he did quickly after Aegis started his last attack.

"Ring out. Point; Aegis."

Smiling, the dusky skinned teen nodded to me. "You're tougher than you look. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Of course not," I answered retying the hair that had escaped its prison. Aegis winced at the bruises forming on my arms as they moved. "Just out of curiosity, just how tough are you? My attacks didn't seem to do much."

Nodding, the Wards leader chuckled self consciously as he got back into position. "Yeah, pretty tough. Sorry about the bruises. I was trying to hold back."

"So was I," I returned before setting myself up for the next round. "Again?"

Nodding easily, Aegis did the same.

"Begin."

Having a feel for my fighting style now, Aegis dispensed with the circling, and came straight at me.

Having figured that was the style he was most comfortable with, I let him waiting until the last moment before evading his attack. I moved just enough to the side for him to miss before beginning my own series of attacks. This time, letting myself go all out in a short burst.

A knee to the groin was followed by a head butt that left me feeling like it hurt me more than him. It did however buy me just enough space to put a kick into his side hard enough to cost his ballance. Taking advantage of my vicious counter and knowing this advantage wouldn't last long, I pulled back my foot while twisting freely in the air. My built up momentum added to the kick to his chin which sent the Ward flying out of the ring. Landing on my hand I easily bleed off momentum stopping in a crouch.

"Hold!" Armsmaster barked unnecessarily. "Aegis, are you injured?"

Unlike my landing, Aegis's wasn't smooth, though he was up instantly. A sickening crack put his jaw back into place while he casually walked back to the ring.

"I'm fine," he answered finally.

Reactions among the Wards varied. Of those who were not going to face me, Shadow Stalker was smirking having clearly enjoyed seeing Aegis put down hard. Kid Win looked shocked and a little green. Vista however seemed absolutely stunned.

Gallant's mouth was a thin line, while his lenses looked at Clock as if to say, 'I told you so'. Clockblocker however wasn't looking noticing, he was looking back and forth between me and Armsmaster. Browbeat I knew the least about, aside from the stuff on the PHO which said he was kind of like Aegis, power wise except he couldn't fly. He seemed more thoughtful than bothered as he watched.

Aegis though had them all beat. He was smiling at me while retaking his place on the mat.

"Does you're power make you that fast?"

" _Non_ ," I answered honestly. "At least I don't think so. I've always been a natural athlete."

"Well, it's impressive," Aegis stated. "You also hit me harder this time than you did in the first round."

"You can take it," I said. "Most can't. Wasn't sure you could though until our first spar. But don't be fooled, _chéri_ , I'm not a brute by any means. Just skilled."

"You kicked me hard enough to dislocate my jaw. That's pretty strong."

Shaking my head, I corrected him. "That's a difference between style and powered strength. I've dabbled a bit in both savate and bo-jutsu which makes moves like that easy for me. But really, anyone can do what I do, if they trained for it and put in the effort. If you looked you could see non powered people do incredible stuff all the time on the net. It's not always about powers and mine are pretty straight forward, which is why I don't rely on them."

Looking thoughtful, Aegis nodded after a moment. "Good point."

"Are you fit to continue, Aegis?" Armsmaster asked.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Very well. Deciding round. Begin."

Returning to a winning tactic, Aegis slowly advanced. Like the first time, he carefully countered me keeping his eyes on both my hands and feet while keeping just enough distance that I couldn't close and blitz him again. After a particularly painful block I had to switch to evading everything he threw at me. He was hitting slightly harder than before. That let him dictate the pace and our movements while once again pushing me slowly into a corner.

Moving out of the way from a particularly nasty combination I knew I couldn't take, I managed to slip free of the corner this time. Knowing my limitations though meant Aegis just maneuvered me into another one. This time when I slipped free he immediately tried again. He was too strong for me to take a hit from him while at the same time, I was too fast for him to land that hit. This fight was a war of attrition now. With his seemingly endless stamina, this was a fight I knew I was going to lose in the end. He wasn't even breathing hard while I felt like my lungs were starting to burn.

It was obvious and everyone watching knew it was only a matter of time now before exhaustion caused me to slip, and then he'd have me. I could already feel the fatigue from everything I was doing starting to set in. However, I didn't want to do to him what I did to Two Mauls to end this dance. Even if it wouldn't get me arrested on the spot, Aegis wasn't an enemy to put down like that and I did have to work with these people for the next few years.

However, thinking about that fight gave me an idea. Afterall, like Jess was always telling me, if you're not cheating, you're doing it wrong. The question was, would he fall for it?

One way to find out.

Letting Aegis chase me around the ring wasn't hard to do, that was his plan. Several times I pretended to blitz strikes only to let him rebuff me and quickly reassert control of the fight. With each corner I escaped from I slowed myself down just a bit making it easier for him to trap me again, but never enough to fully own me. I started breathing a little harder with each pass until I was practically panting. Eyes darting to the clock showed us entering the last ten seconds of the two minute mark and by this time I was barely staying ahead of any of his strikes. With time about to be called, I made my move just as he put me back in another corner.

I stumbled. Just a quick, unsteady wobble of my left knee. A slight widening of my eyes as if I didn't expect it. A momentary stall in my movements. That was all it took and like a gator smelling blood in the water, Aegis took the offered bait looking to finish me before time was called.

Arms out to grapple me, Aegis never saw my quick hop under and inside his guard until I was the only thing he could see. Moving between his arms I rose high enough in the air for me to grab the top of his head. Quickly wrapping it between my legs I threw my weight backward. With him still in the process of lunging he never stood a chance. His feet left the ground as I flipped us faster than he could realize just what I was doing.

And just that quickly my opponent found himself slamming into the mat on his back.

"Point; Gambit."

Smirking at the dazed and blushing face trapped between my thighs, I unclenched, releasing him. Easily standing while not showing any of the fatigue I had moments ago as I walked away.

Unlike the other time I'd knocked him down, Aegis didn't immediately spring to his feet. Instead laying there for several moments with his face blushing almost as much as Vista's currently was.

Not exactly a PG win, but I'd take it. Besides, I owed him for the jaw thing.

Taking a moment to drink from the bottle of water I opened earlier, I looked around the silent room. Aside from Armsmaster, no one else seemed to know what just happened. Even Shadow Stalker looked stunned at the upset.

Rolling the water around in my mouth a moment before swallowing, I smirked. I loved doing that to people. Best part of being a cape. Maybe this hero thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

An awkward chuckle behind me brought my attention back to Aegis. He was on his feet now, but his blush was in no way diminished as he half faced me refusing to meet my eyes.

"Okay, that was slick," he complimented me while rubbing his throat.

Unable to resist, I corrected him. "It takes more than a hard body and a bit of foreplay to excite Gambit."

"Enough," Armsmaster immediately interrupted.

Rolling my eyes at his tone, I took another drink.

"Browbeat, you're next."

"I have a long way to go before I can match her skill," the dark blue themed cape muttered. "I'll pass."

"Pick a style that suits you," I offered to the cape. Rumor was he was a new blood but a smart one. "Or several and blend them into your own. It's what I did."

Nodding at the advice he seemed to stand a bit straighter.

"Very well. Clockblocker."

Looking at the time I shook my head. Barely half and hour had actually passed but I was done. "Maybe another time."

"Gambit, you will do as instructed."

Instead of going back into the ring, I headed over and grabbed my towel. I didn't even bother to turn around when I answered him. "Never was very good at following orders. Ask Rat King. He used to try and tell me what to do too."

"The terms of you're probation require you to put in one hour a day training, minimum."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I have to do it being a punching bag."

"This is training…"

Cutting off his rant I casually turned around holding the towel behind my neck. "This is about putting me in my place and you trying to figure out my fighting style."

My accusation was met with dead silence from the hero, but not a denial. Other reactions were once again mixed. Unsurprisingly Gallant scoffed while Aegis looked shocked I would even think Armsmaster would do something like that. I couldn't see Kid Win or Vista, but Shadow Stalker didn't look surprised. Amused I would call him on it, but not surprised. As the only other probationary ward on the team, the same thing probably happened to her. Browbeat's head just followed along like the drama in front of him was some kind of puzzle to be solved.

"Which I get," I continued. "You need to establish dominance and I'm a well known malcontent. The difference between us though, Armsmaster, is I put in my own work."

"Just how conceited are you to think Armsmaster would go through all this trouble just for you?" Gallant asked cooly.

"Oh make no mistake, I think highly of myself," I answered with a smirk. "But let's look at the facts."

Holding up my hand I started counting them off. "One; my color scheme is brown, black, and purple. That hasn't changed since my debut. You all have training gear in your colors, but mine is hot pink. Which doesn't bother me as much as you thought it might. I can rock pink."

"That seems far fetched and a little petty to bring up, Gambit," Aegis noted neutrally.

"True, but that doesn't change the fact it's a nice little psychological ploy. Next, you all have masks. I don't."

Browbeat attempted to counter this one. Like Aegis though, his tone was neutral not hinting whichever way this own thought process was at. "Ah, but aren't you outed? A public cape, like New Wave?"

"Again, seems petty to bring up, no?" I asked in return. "The rest of the team is dressed one way, I'm in another. Reinforces that I'm an outsider. Which, again, is fine. Gambit is used to living on the edges of society. However, the real kicker here is this training plan you concocted. You know very little about me, much less what I'm capable of yet you pit me against them? When added with everything else, it really brings home what this is all about."

Sounding just as condescending as his body posture looked, Gallant pointed out, "We do this all the time. This is how we train."

"Oh, each of you have had to face the others in a string of matches then?"

Leaning back at my comment, Gallant didn't' reply, though looked thoughtful.

"It was the line up that gave it away," I continued into the silence. "Aegis and Browbeat? Two brutes who can take hard hits. Okay, I can buy that, rumors about me say I can hit hard. Makes since but Gallant? We shouldn't have fought because he really doesn't like me. Understandable since I wrecked his car."

Almost despite himself, Clock snorted. Gallant just looked tired while sighing at the reminder.

"It was including Clockblocker that tipped me off though. You wanted us to fight. He was who you wanted to start things off before Gallant volunteered. I bet you wanted to see which of us would bow out first, him or me. Also probably to test that rumor about me that I can mess with touch based strikers."

"What," Clock blurted surprised. "Can you?"

"Usually," I answered evenly. "Not something I try and advertise, and not always, but yeah. Sometimes. At first I assumed this was Armsmaster's way of giving you guys experience and insight into how I fight, just in case you had to for keeps."

"That's harsh," Clockblocker half heartedly noted. "Why would you think that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I returned with a shrug. "But after the first round with Gallant I changed my thoughts. With the change up, he didn't seem to really care much about the matches themselves. If it was for you guys, he would have been pointing out what went right and what went wrong. That had me remembering something I'd read a while ago."

"As I said, I put in my own work when doing research," I said returning my eyes to the still quiet Armsmaster. "And I did my share on you. You've been around a while and there's a lot out there. PHO, cape websites and several fansites. Even a few that I had to subscribe to like Halberds and Steal Horses. Personally think that guys stalking you but it was worth it to see all the videos he's collected of your fights. Remembering what I found there is when I figured it out."

"And what, exactly, do you think you figured out, Gambit," Armsmaster asked emotionlessly.

"Your tell," I answered with a smirk. "The first time you face a new cape, you struggle a bit. Tend to rely on your teammates for a while. If the fight lasts long enough though, you get more aggressive. Eventually you take the lead and they're trying to keep up with you. But the next time you fight that cape?"

"It's night and day," I said shaking my head. "You're a tinker, so it makes since you prep your gear for it and come prepared. But that's not how it works exactly, is it? I watched the fights and you use very little tinker gear outside your weapon and armor. They might cosmetically change a bit now and then, but not much. Add to that you're well known for stuffing an incredible amount of tinker tech into that halberd. I bet there's just as much, if not more, in that helmet and armor. It fits the pattern. How when villains surprise you the second time you fight them they rarely get past the third fight. By then they're out of tricks and you usually win."

"That's what you've been doing here. Studying me without actually fighting me. Which we know you can't since I'm a minor and we both know I barely put in any effort during my powers assessment. This way if I did decide to jump ship, I wouldn't get far and you could bring me in with little effort. It also gives me the chance to hurt one of them which would violate my probation and give you an excuse to lock me up. Win Win for you as I see it."

"That is a very long, convoluted conspiracy theory," Armsmaster state evenly. "Even for you."

"I haven't seen anything yet that disproves it," I returned with a shrug. "None of this is a big deal though. This is about what I expected was going to happen when I decided to join. Thought I would point it out. Just saying that next time you might want to try to be a bit more subtle about it, Boss."

"Which is nothing against you guys," I said turning to the other Wards. "I actually like most of you. Even you, Gallant."

"Now," I said winding down and ignoring his shocked face. "According to my contract, the worst you can do to me for walking out on training is sanction my grant, pay, or give me more hours later since we both know I'm never going to be allowed on patrol and only an idiot would put me on console. Let's be honest, I'm way too irresponsible to be trusted with something like that. So, since I'm done for the day, sanction away."

Deciding that I said all that I needed. People moved not bothering to stop me. That made it easier to slip a card into Clocks hand as I passed without being caught.

Whether he showed or not would tell me all I needed to know.


	41. Gambling Time: Chapter 7

**Gambling Time: Chapter 7**

"Wasn't sure you would show."

The approaching teen half shrugged, keeping his hands in his pockets and looking anywhere but at me.

"I almost didn't."

"Because of what I did at work? To your friends?"

"No," he answered hesitantly while looking around. Not seeing anyone close enough to over hear he continued, though quieter, just in case. "You were pretty brutal with Aegis, but he didn't have a problem with it and told us so. Gallant was upset, but I think it was more how easy he lost than that he lost to you. Vista's all set to adopt you though, which I think scares Armsmaster more than what you did in the ring."

Chuckling, I said, "It should. If he thinks Gambits bad with explody powers, imagine a mini me that can take what she wants without having to work for it."

Smiling slightly, Dennis didn't argue. "Thought you were mad at me."

I nodded. I was a bit miffed. Guess it showed more than I thought.

"Then why are you here, _cher_?"

"I figured even if you were, better to face it than make it worse. If you weren't then I definitely didn't want to leave things like this."

"Leave it like what?"

"Awkward," Dennis muttered finally looking at me. "I didn't know you smoked."

"Sometimes, when I have something on my mind," I said after blowing out a cloud. Smirking, I added, "or after something _really_ memorable."

Dennis snorted.

"Does it bother you?"

"No. Not really."

 _Going to need to work on that,_ I thought. Dennis was crafty enough that a lie shouldn't be that transparent, but I guess the situation _was_ awkward enough for anyone to make a mistake. Letting my power consume the offending little cigar, I flicked it away.

Not commenting on my use of powers openly, Dennis looked around. "Why are did you want to meet? Not that I'm complaining or anything but, why here?"

"During study period a couple of questions were asked, and neither of us answered them."

That brought his focus back to me.

"And?" He asked cautiously.

"And I'll ask again. Do you really want to know?"

"Aren't you worried I'll report it to Armsmaster?"

"No."

Looking disbelievingly at me, he folded his arms.

Allowing a smirk to show, I chuckled. "I'm really not worried, Dennis."

"Seems like that's taking a big chance. Especially after you're rant at Armsmaster."

"I'm a gambler," I answered easily. "And either way it goes, that too is an answer to a question I have. You have to feel free to do what you need to, _mon'ami_. I'm honestly okay with whichever way this goes."

Shaking his head Dennis allowed the first honest expression on his face to show. Fond exasperation.

"You really will gamble on anything."

"Almost anything," I softly returned.

"Kinda seems like you are though."

"Maybe I am," I conceded before shrugging. "This hero thing wasn't something I chose because I'm a good person, Dennis. I chose it because it was the easiest way to get what I wanted."

"And what is that, Renée?" Dennis asked with more intensity than I'd seen from him before.

"Danny, for one."

"Who?"

"My papa," I answered, looking away. "I told you how we found each other not long ago."

"Right, sorry," Dennis muttered. "You never told me his name though. So, he's why you joined?"

"One of the reasons," I clarified. "He's not like us. He's a civilian. While there were other options available, and more than a few I would have preferred, this one netted the larger return for the investment. So I took it."

"I can get doing something for your dad," Dennis said quietly. So quietly I almost missed it. "But I thought you didn't remember anything from before you're powers kicked in."

"I don't."

"Then that's not right. Not really. Something tells me that it would take a lot more than a guy you don't really remember to go through this much trouble. Even if he was your dad."

I nodded to his point. "In all honesty, if something did happen and I had to go back underground, he'd probably try and come with me so you're not wrong. Not ideal for either of us, but still an option."

"Then why, Renée? Why go through all of this to join and then risk throwing it all away on doing stuff? Especially if you think they're waiting to pin you for crossing the line."

"I decided long ago that static wasn't for me," I said instead of answering. This wasn't the time for that kind of truth. Maybe later, if there was going to be one. "Back then, I didn't know how long I'd make it so I choose to enjoy it all until I couldn't. Being a Probationary Ward hasn't changed that for me, Dennis."

Turning away from Dennis, I started heading toward the large building next to us. A couple of quick steps put him next to me but he didn't say anything until we crossed the automatic glass doors.

"I thought we were going to talk about this stuff. You didn't answer my question."

"Didn't I?" I chuckled.

Sighing, Dennis shook his head. "Why are we going into Brockton Memorial?"

This lobby wasn't very full. Just a few on duty personnel doing their thing mixed with a couple of people waiting, or making their own way somewhere. Habitually taking note of the four cameras and two guards, I started for the elevator keeping my head down and moving through the blind spots when I could.

"Rule Twenty-Seven."

"Ah, what?"

Stepping into the elevator I hit the button for the seventh floor.

"Nothing," I mumbled as the doors closed. "Just reminding myself of something."

The ride upward was quite. Awkwardly quiet until Dennis once again tried starting a conversation. Something I was thankful for as it kept me from thinking about what I was about to do. While I had hopes on how this was going to turn out, I'd been wrong about people before and some things were just too much for anyone to deal with.

Then again, I tended to have that effect on people.

"So, I was thinking about that thing with Armsmaster earlier. Do you really think he's setting you up or something?"

"Not really," I answered honestly.

"You don't?" Dennis asked surprised.

"No. He's just doing his job."

"But all the stuff you said. About the clothes and him trying to figure out how you fight? About him trying to put you in your place? What was all that about?"

"Honestly?"

Dennis nodded.

"I was just messing with him."

Laughing abruptly, Dennis asked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah," I answered smirking. When the elevator door chimed our arrival, I stepped through. "Gallant was probably right when he said that's how you guys train. I mean, what do I know about how heroes do things? I also assumed that the Protectorate would want to make use of me in a passive way since I refuse to be rebranded."

"I was actually wondering about that earlier. Assault mentioned that was something to expect," he said. "Why don't you want to rebrand?"

"Because I am not ashamed of who I am," I answered firmly. "And Gambit does not dress up in colorful spandex that shows off my _assets_ for the masses to see. I will choose who sees what, when I deem them worthy. I am also not going to fight crime with ribbons or batons. I am most definitely not going to allow anyone to call me Acrobat, Shimmer, Scout, Vanguard, or _Sparkle_ just because some PR idiot decided that a teenage gambler girl wasn't a family friendly image. The less said about the...edgier ideas they asked me about the better."

 _Exorcist._ I mentally scoffed. _He was lucky Miss Militia was in the room with us otherwise I would have given him something that would needed exorcising_.

"They wanted Gambit, so they are getting Gambit," I continued. "As far as training with you guys, it's a good fit. I've probably been in more fights than all of you combined. Except maybe Vista."

"Vista, really?"

"Don't underestimate her," I warned only half jokingly. "She's very driven to prove herself. That kind of steel will make her formidable if she's ever backed into a corner.

"Yeah, she can be a little terror when she goes all out."

"I'd bet on her against most of you and never let you forget it when she wins."

"Okay, point made, but all that stuff you said about Armsmaster seemed like you really thought he would do something like you said."

"Oh, I don't doubt he was. He's most likely done it to all of you guys and made preparations. Just in case. I always knew he was going to do that to me."

"In case we get mastered or something? I can see that actually. We've had classes on what to do in situations like that."

"Yeah. Something like that."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"Not really," I answered honestly. "He's a believer in his cause, and that is a powerful thing. It also can't be easy to be one of the top ranked heros in the Protectorate. With a good roll of the dice anyone can get to the top thirty. Can you imagine how much work it would take to climb into the very top spots, much less keep it? Especially for how long he's done it?"

"So, you bring all that stuff up just to mess with him because he's _good_?"

"Not because he's good, _cher_ , but because he thinks of himself as a soldier in a war against evil."

"He's brought in a lot of bad guys though," Dennis said. "Okay, he's intense and yeah, he's a jerk most of the time, and I don't think he's ever had any kind of relationship with fun, but he's just doing his best to protect people."

Turning the corner we entered the day room for this floor. Large windows back dropped several wall mounted TV's and seating options. The room wasn't very full having only two patients tended by orderlies with a third not attached to anyone.

When I locked eyes on him, he nodded before leaving. Walking over to the windows, I looked over the city surrounding us.

"My issue with him isn't that, or with him specifically," I continued when Dennis joined me. "I guess it's a matter of different philosophies."

"What do you mean?"

Pointing toward the window I asked, "What do you see?"

"The city?"

I nodded. When I didn't say anything, Dennis frowned taking a second look. This time looking down at the street.

"People."

"Humans," I clarified.

"What?" Dennis asked. His laugh seeming more confused than amused. "What's the difference?"

"The same difference that lies between lead and gold."

"Okay, you're going to have to explain that one."

I smiled slightly. Without knowing it, he just showed another reason why I liked him. It was a shame it was going to have to be me who stole his innocence. That it wasn't even the innocence I wanted to steal from him made it worse.

"Have you ever looked up the word 'para'?" I asked. When Dennis shook his head, I continued. "Has a couple of meanings depending on how it's used. Things like closely related to, associated, or closely resembling are the more common I think. Faulty and abnormal are meanings I think were intended though when some normal dreamed up 'parahuman' to label us."

"Says it pretty clear, don't you think?" I asked quietly looking down on those below us. "That we're not like them. That we're so different we needed to be _labeled_. But that wasn't enough for normal people though. When labeling us wasn't enough, they started _categorizing_ us."

"Mover, shaker, brute, breaker, master, tinker, blaster, thinker, striker, changer, trump, stranger. Heroes. _Villains_. They assigned us threat levels and an entire military was designed to control us by hunting us down. When even that didn't prove to be enough, they _weaponized_ us to fight each other."

"There were some who chose to do some pretty bad things, Renée…"

"People have been doing bad things to people for centuries before we were even a thing," I returned sharply."But okay, answer this. How many humans are denied rights just for just being who they are?"

"That's right," I said seeing he wasn't going to continue. "Look at what happened to Bad Canary."

"She made a guy screw himself with his own dick," Dennis said looking a bit queasy. "I mean, it's a pretty horrible use of powers."

"He was a stalker and deserved far worse than he got," I returned. "And she didn't even want him to do that. She just wanted him to leave her alone. Does that get talked about? No, only what he did to himself is. All the coverage ignores what he was doing to her and focuses on what happened to him. What the _parahuman_ did the to human."

"Nothing about all the concerts she did where no one got hurt or the charity concert she gave after the bombings at Cornell University. They're ignoring the fact that guy bribed her security to get backstage. That she told security that she needed to be alone for a while after a concert. That he was trying to take a cut of her hard work like he owned her. Just because they used date."

"And is she being tried by a jury of her peers? No, she's being tried by _humans_. Humans who are afraid of her power. They're so afraid of her they have her strapped down like Hannibal Lecter for everyone to see. That isn't a trial, it's a freak show where normal's get to watch one of us put in our place."

"She was a rogue, Dennis. All she wanted to do was to make money by singing. She never wanted to hurt anyone. She was entertaining them with an experienced only she could give. Music on a level that unless you've been one of her concerts you can't understand. Now she's going to get the 'cage. How is that justice?"

"I didn't say it was and the trials not over yet. She might still get off," Dennis answered. "You seem to know more about that stuff than her own lawyer does."

"Probably because her lawyers barely putting in any effort," I answered bitterly. "One look at the media coverage will tell you how it's going to end, and it won't be in her favor."

"Okay, I can get that this looks like a shitty deal for her, but why are you all fired up about this? Was she a friend of yours or something?"

"I've been to one of her concerts," I answered. "I know exactly what her security was like. I know how easy it was to bribe someone to get backstage. I did it and it wasn't even that expensive. Even told her so when we hung out that night. She's good people, Dennis. A bit naive about some stuff but still good people."

"Master's scare people, Renée. For good reason."

"Labels," I scoffed. "All they care about is what she _could_ do with her power. They're not asking themselves if she would _,_ only looking at that she _can_."

"And that's my problem with the PRT and Protectorate, Dennis. That's my problem with Armsmaster and the way people like him think. They created and support a system that only has two outlets for us. Heroics or Villainy. You're either a slave, or a criminal. There is no middle ground."

"That's not really true. Rogues are a thing. There's several in Brockton Bay, like Parian. She's been seen making stuffed animals dance around for stores downtown and the rumor is she's studying clothing design and stuff."

"But how long will that last?" I asked. "How long before someone makes the choice for her? Maybe the Empire or Coil decide they don't want her in their area of downtown and make a move. Depending on the fallout, Parian will have to pay protection rents or have no choice but to join or get protection from the Protectorate or one of the smaller villain groups."

"Well, the Protectorates better than the working for the Empire," Dennis pointed out fairly. "Or any villain really. Compared to them, working for us isn't a bad deal. They'd treat her fairly."

"Maybe, but if she wanted to be a hero, she would have signed up on her own," I argued. "And that doesn't change the fact that its someone else taking away her choice. The fact is she chose to be a rogue because that's the only alternative for us."

"And what rights do we really have, Dennis? I'm banned from being an athlete in any professional sport. Why? Because I have powers? My physic isn't anything you can't find in other people who put in the effort."

"It's pretty nice though," Dennis said.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I joked back, letting myself calm down a bit. While I appreciated his attempt to deflect the seriousness of our talk, I pressed on. Though his appreciation felt nice. "But that doesn't change that I will never be able to compete in the Olympics, professionally run track, or anything like that."

"No matter how good she gets," I continued. "Parian will never be allowed to own her own businesses or run a company without a human handler. Why? Because that means she'll have to out herself and if she did that, she'd open herself to capes who want her to help them. Whether she wants to or not. That's what happens to parahumans who exposed themselves. Unwritten rules or not, it always makes us targets for those on either side of the line. When New Wave formed, one of them _died_. They're choice didn't just cost them a member, it stalled any momentum for their cause before they could get going. Which is a shame really because I always thought they had the right idea, even if their goals were misguided."

"And yet, for all you like them, you beat up Glory Girl," Dennis pointed out.

Rolling my eyes I ignored him. He wasn't wrong. "We can't even work in government unless it's in the Protectorate. There isn't a single parahuman in that, or any, governing body. Not one. All our options from how we live to our futures are decided for us by normal people. Unless something changes, in the end we're all going to either end up as heros and give our lives fighting our own, villains for as long as we can doing the same thing, or like Bad Canary and put down because normal people are afraid of us. All because of something we have no control over."

Shaking my head at my own rant, I turned away looking outward to the city. I half wanted to continue. Telling him how much I didn't want these powers. What they've cost me. How hard it was to keep it contained. To not use them, and when I did to limit how much. The struggle each time I touched something to not put too much into them because it was _so_ easy. To not repeat that time...

Instead I stayed quiet. Breathed to calm myself down. While our voices didn't look like it carried over to the others in the day room, it was getting close. No need to air this beyond the two of us. This isn't even the conversation I wanted to have with him. Not that I wanted to do that one either, but I needed to know where this was going. If, if it was going to go anywhere.

Better to find out now, than later.

"I don't want you to think I dislike normal's, Dennis," I clarified. "I don't. I just..."

"You just don't like them hating you for who you are," he finished. "It makes sense really. Why you never masked yourself unless you had to. You're grudge against the Protectorate."

"It's not just them hating me. I'm not vain enough to think everyone will like me, though they really should. I'm a lot of fun to be around normally," I tried joking. It earned me a weak chuckle.

"It's the lack of equality, Dennis. We didn't ask for this. Those same people who sit in judgment of us forget that this happened _to_ us. They built a system and rigged it so that we can't be more than our powers. With few exceptions, parahumans stop being people the moment we become capes. The only reason I have the freedoms I do with the Protectorate is because I was lucky enough to be able to afford an expert to get them."

"Okay, so if you feel that strongly about this, what can we do about it?" He asked seriously. "I mean, I get this is important to you, so what can we do?"

Looking over his shoulder showed the orderly from earlier walking back into the day room. Again meeting my eyes and nodding before striking up a conversation with the on duty nurse at the station.

Waving Dennis to follow, I headed to our destination.

"Nothing," I answered.

"Seriously?"

"What _can_ I do?" I asked rhetorically. "Run my own private school of parahumans and brainwash them into thinking like me? Run my own vigilante team and _force_ people to accept us?"

I scoffed at my own answer. "Gambit is no revolutionary to lead the charge for parahuman rights. I support them, but I couldn't lead one where or how it would need to go. I would only ruin it's chances. That doesn't mean I have to blindly accept the status quo and I can already tell that life in the Wards isn't going to be that much different than when I ran with a gang."

"That's kind of harsh," Dennis muttered next to me. "There's stuff I don't like about it, but it's not as bad as being in a gang."

"Not all gangs are like you think," I said quietly as a nurse was passing us. "And depending on what they're trying to do, some are not that bad. I'm biased though, I like to think I ran a good one but I was talking about when I ran with the 'Rats."

"Working for the Protectorate means a different environment and rules but the same nonetheless. I'm still expected to play the part of the good little enforcer. But like the Rat King, the PRT is going to find out that controlling Gambit isn't as easy as telling me what to do. If they want me to dance, they're going to need to play the right music. Until then, or until I find something better, I'll play my own."

Reaching the room I was heading for, I nodded toward it. "Part of that tune is in there."

Looking confused, Dennis looked through the window built into the door. I didn't need to, having been here before and already looked.

Inside was a kid. He was thirteen years old, according to the doctor Penny seduced the other day. Emaciated and hooked up to a lot of machines that did nothing but monitor his fading condition and dispense pain medication.

Pulling back, Dennis looked at me with a frown not saying anything.

"His name is Michael Corner," I explained. "He liked playing sports before he got sick, watching cape videos, and playing video games. His favorite in particular is a popular franchise involving characters from a different game driving go-karts, according to my source."

"He's dying. Cancer," I stated bluntly before looking through the window myself. "He has a little sister who idolizes him, and two parents who are all but selling their souls for his treatments. The doctors gave him three months, six months ago. Kids a fighter."

"Why are you telling me this, Renée?" Dennis whispered.

The pain in his voice made me wonder if he just felt for the kid, or if there was something personal between his situation and something in Dennis's own life. Deciding not to look deeper, I instead answered. "Those cape videos he likes? He specifically likes watching Uber and Leet. Huge fan really. Not all their stuff, but most of it. Loves their theme of using video games for their capers."

"He asked the orderly to help him post a fan letter on their site a couple of weeks ago. Justin's a good guy, so didn't say anything and helped him. Turns out, Uber and Leet read their fan mail. They decided to pull a job for the kid. Something right out of his favorite game so the kid can go out with a memory to make the other kids in heaven jealous when he gets there. Leet even built him a set of VR goggles that will let him watch as if he was there."

Looking back to Dennis showed only a blank face. Not one that didn't understand what I was saying, but one who was trying very hard not to show what he was thinking or feeling.

That didn't bode well.

"Uber and Leet were in a bind with the kids time limited," I continued, having already antied in. Time to see how this hand played out. "They wanted to pull the job by this weekend but to do so they needed help and a lot of supplies. So Uber reached out. Offered to pay me quite a bit to help them. I did."

I didn't need to say how I helped exactly. I could tell by Dennis's eyes he understood exactly what my help entailed and it wasn't blowing something up. His following comments confirmed it.

"So you robbed someone."

"More like a few someones, a couple of business and a warehouse, actually."

Dennis started at me silently.

"They needed a lot of supplies."

"And set up Glory Girl to distract everyone from what happened?"

"While the smash and grabs I planned lacked elegance," I confirmed. "The warehouse didn't and even you have to admit, _chéri_ , using Glory Girl for my alibi was a work of art. Especially when you consider how many times I had to lose her and then let her find me again after I did want needed doing, without letting her catch me doing something she wasn't supposed to see."

He snorted, turning away to look at Michael again. "We could talk to Panacea…"

"No."

"But…"

"No, Dennis," I said shaking my head. "Even if she didn't hate me for beating up her sister, it is not her responsibly to heal people just because she can. There are just too many people in need for her, or any _traiteur,_ to heal. To even try she would have to give everything up, dedicate her all to nothing but healing and in the end she would fail. Even then, what kind of life is that to live? A slave to the people just because she happens to have the power to fix them?"

Shaking my head at the idea I said, "It's not her responsibility to heal everyone who gets sick just because she can. In the end it would ruin her and she would resent everyone for it. Maybe even start hurting people just to make them stop coming to her. Besides, this stuff happens to people. It's life, and what makes him special, out of all those suffering? Because he's a kid? Because we know about him?"

"Sometimes you just get a bad hand and it's better to just accept that when God decides your time is up and calls you home, you go home. Until then, you live as if each day was your last, and fight for each moment more. Just like Michael. Just like..."

I swallowed my words back, unwilling to say them. Looking at my partially gloved hand I clenched it into a fist. It wasn't his burden to bear.

"Hey," Dennis said lowly, before taking my hand and smiling. "Want to go to a party? With me?" He began rubbing his thumb over the top of my glove where the back of my hand was exposed. It was distracting.

" _Cher_?"

Looking more sure of himself, he asked again. "It's Friday and there's that party I told you about. Would you like to go? It's supposed to be a good party. Should be a keg and Jordan said he found the key to his parents liquor cabinet, so lots of alcohol."

"There are parties that don't have alcohol?"

Chuckling, Dennis nodded. "I've never been to one, but I heard about them. They sounded like they sucked."

"I just ranted about how much I don't like the people we work for, told you I masterminded a series of robberies, that I'm working with known villains, basically everything the Wards program stands against, and you're asking me out?"

Meeting my eyes, Dennis seemed to pause for a bit before saying, "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

" _Mais,_ " I muttered, shaking my head. "Okay. Yeah, I'd like that, _cher_. But, how can you be okay with all this?"

"I don't suppose you would just accept that I am?"

I slowly shook my head.

Sighing, Dennis ran his hand through his hair. Looking down the hallway without really seeing it.

"I'm not okay with this, Renée, but just because I don't like what you're doing, doesn't mean I can't understand why you're doing it. At least in this case," he said, waving at the still closed door. "But that's mostly because I don't want anything to happen to you. I…"

Blowing out a breath and looking frustrated he went quiet for a full minute before he started talking again.

"I like you," Dennis said, seeming like he was almost forcing the words out. "Like, really like you and if you get caught, I'm not going to be able to see you anymore. And that's… I don't want that."

" _Cher_ … "

"I mean, is that so bad?"

"No, _mon cher_ ," I whispered. "It's not."


End file.
